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RECREATIONS 


OF 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION 
BY    EEV.    T,    a.    JONES. 


PHILADELPHIA:   J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT   &  CO. 

RICHMOND:    A.  MORRIS. 
1859. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859, 
BY  MACFARLANE  &  FERGUSSON, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Eastern  District  of  Virginia. 


RICHMOND: 
MACFARLANE  *  FERQUSSOX.  PUBLISHERS. 


Ac* 


RECREATIONS    &c. 


M2G8541 


CONTENTS. 

INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE, 1 

THOMAS  CHATTERTON, 9 

HOPKINS'S  AMERICAN  CITIZEN,      .        .        .        .        .65 
THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY,  .        .        .83 

THE  NEW  LITERATURE, 105 

CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION,    .        .        .  123 
SMITH'S  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY,        .  153 

MILBURN'S  LECTURES, 179 

NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS, 203 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE. 

It  has  been  for  some  time  the  fashion  to  collect  and  publish  in  book 
form  the  best  articles  of  our  ablest  and  most  respectable  Reviews. 
We  like  the  fashion.  Many  of  these  articles  are  the  best  productions 
of  the  finest  minds  of  the  age — the  ripest  scholars,  the  profoundest 
thinkers,  the  ablest  representatives  of  the  bar,  the  bench,  and  the  pul 
pit,  as  well  as  the  most  distinguished  men  of  science  and  of  general 
literature. 

No  kind  of  reading  has  seemed  to  us  better  adapted  to  improve  the 
taste,  enlighten  and  enlarge  the  views,  adorn  and  furnish  the  whole 
mental  structure,  than  that  supplied  by  the  better  class  of  essayists  and 
critical  reviewers.  We  are  aware  that  it  has  been  thought  by  some 
that  this  kind  of  reading  tended  to  a  mere  smattering  and  superficiality 
of  knowledge.  And  doubtless  it  is  true  that  not  a  few  readers  of 
reviews  are  superficial  smatterers,  and  nothing  more.  But  we  should 
be  slow  to  think  that  their  review-reading  made  them  such.  We  sus 
pect  that  without  it  they  would  have  been  more  meagre  and  superficial 
still.  So  far  are  we  from  conceding  the  injurious  influence  suggested, 
that  we  are  ready  to  declare  our  conviction  that  judicious  reading  of 
reviews  is  of  the  very  opposite  tendency.  Were  one,  indeed,  to  read 
nothing  else,  provided  he  read  deeply  and  understandingly,  he  would 
be  wanting  in  neither  depth  nor  breadth  of  intelligence.  For  as  we 
have  already  intimated,  the  best  reviews  often  embrace  and  embody 
the  best  results  of  the  best  efforts  of  the  best  minds  of  the  age — the 
products  of  their  richest  and  ripest  scholarship,  maturest  thought, 
deepest  reading,  most  thorough  research,  all  condensed,  severely  con 
densed,  and  brought  within  the  briefest  possible  space,  and  thus  pre 
sented  most  advantageously,  multum  in  parvo,  to  the  intelligent  and 
competent  reader.  A  good  review  gives  to  the  reader  the  very  kernel 
of  the  work,  (whether  of  philosophy,  art,  science,  or  general  literature,) 
reviewed — the  kernel  stripped  of  the  shell,  which  the  able  and  expe 
rienced  reviewer  has  learned  to  take  away  with  a  facility  to  which  his 
unpracticed  reader  is  a  stranger.  And  in  doing  this,  it  often  also  gives, 
in  intense  and  nervous  style,  the  very  quintessence  of  the  reviewer's 
own  genius  and  attainments — the  distillation  and  crystalization,  as  it 
were,  of  his  very  intellect  and  heart. 


2  INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE. 

More  than  this,  the  review  of  the  book  often  leads  to  the  book  itself, 
interests  one  in  its  author,  and  introduces  him,  perhaps,  to  an  intimate 
acquaintance  with  all  his  works.  To  the  dull  and  sluggish  mind  it 
proves  stimulant  and  inspiring,  exciting  deeply  and  abidingly,  it 
may  be,  its  interest  in  great  principles  discussed,  and  inciting  it  to  a 
farther  and  fuller  consideration  of  those  principles  than  the  reviewer 
or  essayist  himself  had  given  them.  Practical  questions,  too,  of  every 
day  interest  and  importance,  which,  as  well  as  great  abstract  principles 
and  propositions,  it  is  the  province  of  the  reviewer  to  consider,  are 
often  made  to  appear  in  new  and  striking  lights,  to  take  hold  of  the 
mind  with  unwonted  force,  and  thus  to  enkindle  its  ardour  and  arouse 
its  energies.  Sometimes  a  clue,  that  might  never  otherwise  be  fur 
nished,  is  given  to  a  wide  and  wondrous  labyrinth  of  thought  and 
speculation  ;  and  thus  the  active  and  inquiring  mind,  ardent  and  ad 
venturous,  is  led  forward  in  a  career  of  the  noblest  explorations.  By 
"  a  word  fitly  spoken,"  by  some  new  light  shed  in  the  glow  of  earnest 
thought  and  fervid  conception — the  reviewer  "shining,"  as  Robert  Hall 
said  of  Dr.  Johnson,  "upon  the  angle  of  a  thought,"  some  great  and 
glorious  many-angled  thought — the  intellect  addressed,  is  led,  it  may 
be,  into  the  widest  and  richest  realms  of  study  and  of  contemplation, 
where  exhaustless  treasures,  and  honours  immortal,  await  its  coming. 

Thus  would  it  seem  that  review-reading,  elevating  and  enlarging 
the  conceptions,  giving  greater  range  of  thought,  greater  extent  of  view 
in  every  direction,  greater  scope  and  compass  to  all  the  leading  powers 
and  functions  of  the  mind,  so  far  from  having  an  essential  tendency  to 
superficiality,  tends  to  depth  as  well  as  breadth  of  knowledge  and  of 
thought. 

In  our  age,  and  especially  in  our  country,  to  save  the  people  not 
from  superficiality,  but  from  almost  utter  ignorance  with  respect  to 
many  matters  of  the  very  last  importance,  reviews  would  seem  to  be 
indispensable.  They  appear  to  have  been  brought  into  being  by  the 
very  necessities  of  the  times.  Everybody  goes  by  steam.  Everything 
is  hurry,  bustle,  confusion.  Men  in  general,  unlike  their  leisurely  an 
cestors,  who  could  not  only  afford  to  read  ponderous  folios  and  quartos, 
as  well  as  less  ponderous  octavos,  but  to  write  them,  and  to  meditate 
almost  unbrokenly  for  long  days,  and  nights,  and  years,  upon  some  fa 
vourite  topic,  have  neither  opportunity  of  time  nor  place,  whatever  their 
ability  or  disposition,  to  read  much,  or  to  meditate  deeply  and  long. 
They  must  do  these  things,  to  a  considerable  extent ;  at  least,  if  they 
do  them  at  all,  by  proxy.  While  they  do  hand-work  for  others,  others 
must  do  head-work  for  them.  While  they  mind  the  material  machinery 


INTRODUCTORY    NOTICE.  3 

of  the  world,  hold  the  helm  of  the  vessel  and  the  handle  of  the  plough* 
fuel  the  fires  of  the  furnace  and  lubricate  the  lathe  of  the  factory,  fell 
the  primeval  forest,  and  build  up  great  cities  in  its  solitudes,  while  they 
construct  railways  and  canals,  steam-ships  and  steam-mills,  hew  wood 
and  draw  water — while  they,  in  a  word,  by  their  husbandry  and  handi 
craft  supply  literary  men  with  the  necessaries  and  comforts  of  the 
physical  life,  the  bread  of  the  mere  corporeal  being,  these  men  of  lite 
rature  must  furnish  them  with  the  necessaries  and  comforts  of  the 
spiritual  and  higher  life,  the  bread  of  the  intellectual  and.  moral  being. 
Now  the  vocation  of  these  latter,  in  part,  at  least,  is  that  of  the  essay 
ists  and.  critical  reviewers.  And  when  true  to  their  high  mission,  they 
constitute  one  of  the  "worthiest  and  most  important  portions  of  the  so 
cial  organism.  Honor  to  them!  Earnest,  honest,  fearless,  able — while 
truly  kind-hearted,  appreciative,  and  genial,  yet  strong-minded  and 
strong-hearted — not  afraid  of  even  the  famous  motto  of  the  old  Edin 
burgh — "  Judex  damn  at  ur  cum  nocens  absohitur."  Men  who  while  not 
on  the  one  hand  arrogating  the  power  and  authority  of  censors  of  the 
press;  nor,  on  the  other,  assuming  the  poor  and  pitiable  office  of  undis- 
criminating  eulogists  and  loose  laudators  of  everybody  and  everything 
that  appears  in  print,  still  keep  an  open,  ever-watchful  eye  upon  the 
immense  and  multifarious  issues  of  the  press,  the  "  many  books,"  of 
"making"  which,  in  our  time  as  in  that  of  Solomon's,  "there  is  no  end," 
scanning  and  scrutinizing  them  closely  and  severely.  "  gathering  the 
good"  together,  and  casting  the  "bad  away,"  giving  the  results  of  their 
labours  to  their  less  leisurable  neighbours — in  highest,  shrillest  notes 
sounding  the  alarm  against  error,  heresy,  treason;  in  clarion  tones  ap 
plauding  and  commending  the  loyal,  the  good,  and  the  true.  Men  who 
sit  at  the  entrance  of  the  sacred  grove  of  knowledge,  its  true  and  in 
corruptible  guardians,  opening  its  portals  to  every  worthy  worshipper, 
admitting  him  to  the  inmost  sanctuary,  arid  the  holiest  shrine;  but  re 
pelling  the  irreverent  and  profane  intruder,  and  closing  against  him 
the  gates  forever. 

"Procul,  O  procul,  este  profani! 
Conclamat  vates,  totoque  absistite  luco!" 

We  are,  then,  in  favour  of  the  Reviews.  We  think  all,  the  young 
especially,  may  read  them  with  the  highest  profit,  and  without  the 
slightest  reason  to  fear  that  they  will  thus  be  made  superficial  smatter- 
ers.  And  we  are  happy  to  be  able  to  enforce  our  own  commendation 
of  this  class  of  reading,  by  the  great  name  of  Foster,  who  while  him- 


4  INTRODUCTORY   NOTICE. 

self  an  omnivorous  reader  of  Reviews,  as  well  as  a  constant  contribu 
tor  to  them,  was  at  the  same  time,  so  far  from  being  superficial  as  al 
most  to  deserve  the  title  of  the  Thinker  of  his  times.  That  unrivalled 
essayist,  after  having  spoken  of  "a  deluge  of  new  entertainment  rush 
ing  upon  him  in  the  form  of  the  Edinburgh  Review,"  (for  a  whole  set 
of  which  he  had  a  short  time  before  "written  to  Paternoster  Row,'') 
called  it  a  "terrible  Review,"  which  he  read  "with  abhorrence  of  its 
tendencies  as  to  religion,  but  with  admiration  of  everything  else,"  and 
saying  that  it  could  "not  fail  to  have  a  very  great  effect  upon  the  literary 
world,  by  imperiously  requiring  a  high  style  of  intellectual  perform 
ance,  and  setting  the  example,"  writes  to  his  friend,  the  Rev.  Joseph 
Hughes — "It  may  not  seem  very  consistent,  after  this,  to  insist  that  you 
must  have  this  work,  from  the  beginning;  and  so  must,  or  ought,  every 
other  intellectual  and  literary  man.  He  cannot  pretend  to  have  a  com 
petent  library  without  it."* 

Rich  and  varied  as  is  our  literature,  it  would  suffer,  in  all  its  depart 
ments,  a  deep  impoverishment,  in  the  loss  of  its  Reviews.  From  those 
invaluable  productions  of  gifted  and  cultivated  intellect,  which  "pos 
terity  will  not  willingly  let  die,"  scarcely  would  any  be  more  missed 
than  those  which  bear  the  image  and  superscription  of  certain  celebra 
ted  Essayists  and  Reviewers.  Indeed,  one  of  the  heaviest  calamities 
that  could  befall  English  literature,  would  be  the  loss,  from  its  com 
mencement,  of  that  one  Review  alone,  so  highly  commended  by  John 
Foster.  With  it  would  perish  the  nervous  and  caustic  critiques  of  Lord 
Jeffrey,  the  magnificent  essays  of  Macaulay;  the  sparkling  wit  and 
racy  humor  of  Sidney  Smith  ;  the  ponderous  philosophic  thought,  strong 
and  glowing  scientific  statement  of  Lord  Brougham  ;  the  easy  elegance, 
the  captivating  grace,  the  pure  sentiment,  the  elevated  conception  of 
Sir  James  Stephen — to  say  nothing  of  the  occasional,  but  invaluable 
contributions  of  other  and  scarcely  inferior  names. 

To  the  important  class  of  writings,  of  which  we  have  just  been 
speaking,  the  articles  of  which  the  present  volume  is  composed  belong. 
And  in  this  class  we  think  they  deserve  to  take  a  highly  honorable  po 
sition.  The  author's  subjects  all  seem  to  us  well  chosen;  a  matter,  by 
the  way,  always  of  the  very  greatest  moment  both  to  the  reader  and 
the  writer,  insuring  the  pleasure  and  profit  of  the  former,  and,  as  in 
the  case  of  many  an  immortal  author,  the  fortune,  often,  of  the  latter ; 
a  matter,  too,  not  as  some  would  seem  to  suppose,  of  chance,  but  of 
sound  judgment,  correct  taste,  proper  mental  and  moral  affinities  and 

*  Life  and  Correspondence  of  John  Foster,  by  J.  E.  Ryland,  p.  125. 


INTRODUCTORY   NOTICE.  5 

habitudes,  as  well  as  other  indefinable  felicities  in  union  with  propitious 
but  perhaps  scarcely  appreciable  outward  circumstances  and  relations. 
Several  of  the  essays,  those  particularly,  in  which  he  discusses  Ameri 
can  Slavery,  American  Citizenship,  and  Christianity  in  the  Legal  Pro 
fession,  seem  to  us  to  involve  questions  of  paramount  social  and  politi 
cal,  ethical  and  religious  importance — questions,  too,  which  many  of 
those  who  may  become  his  readers,  doubtless  find  constantly  coming 
up  for  practical  solution.  Some  of  these,  discussed  with  no  parade 
of  argument  or  pomp  of  language,  are  treated  with  great  simplicity 
clearness,  and  strength.  We  think  every  reader  will  agree  with  us 
that  he  sets  forth  with  remarkable  perspicacity  and  force,  the  true  con 
stitutional  and  governmental  theory  upon  which  are  based  the  rights 
and  duties  of  American  Citizenship.  He  has  managed,  too,  to  treat 
the  perplexed  and  perplexing  subject  of  Slavery,  in  the  clearest  and 
most  convincing  manner.  And  we  cannot  but  hope,  on  this  account 
if  on  no  other,  that  his  book  may  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  many 
well  meaning,  but  somewhat  morbidly  conscientious  and.  sensitive 
Christian  people,  who  are  often  greatly  puzzled  and  embarrassed  by 
certain  moral  and  religious  aspects  which  slavery  is  made  to  assume. 
We  do  not  see  how  any  unprejudiced  and  dispassionate  reader,  after 
attentively  considering  the  cogent  arguments  and  striking  illustrations 
which  he  has  furnished,  in  connection  with  his  well  selected  quotations 
from  the  authors  under  review,  can  fail  to  accept  the  conclusions  which 
he  reaches.  While  not  designing  to  forestall  the  enlightened  reader's 
own  judgment  and  taste  in  the  premises,  or  in  any  wise  to  detract  from 
other  portions  of  the  book,  we  trust  we  shall  be  pardoned  if  we  say  that 
we  think  those  portions  in  which  are  contained  the  discussions  just  al 
luded  to,  will  be  found  of  especial  interest  and  value.  Other  essays  of 
the  volume,  pertaining  to  the  realm  of  poetry  and  light  literature,  im 
part  an  agreeable  variety,  and  relieve  the  tension  of  thought  demanded 
by  the  severer  and  weightier  discussions  of  the  author. 

It  does  not  need  the  light  shed  by  the  title  page,  to  enable  the  reader 
to  identify  the  author  as  a  Southerner  and  a  Barrister.  Both  are  prom 
inent  on  many  of  his  pages.  As  it  should  be,  his  amor  patrice  as  a 
Southerner  is  ardent  and  strong — and  it  often  finds  for  itself  expres 
sion.  In  his  treatment  of  the  "  peculiar  institution,''  especially,  does 
it  declare  itself.  But  there  is,  withal,  an  enlargement  of  view,  a 
breadth  and  generosity  of  sentiment,  really  refreshing  and  hope-inspir 
ing  in  these  dark  days  of  a  narrow  and  selfish  sectionalism.  Though 
the  South  is  clearly  his  "  first  love,"  his  patrial  feeling  grows  too  ex 
pansive  to  be  bounded  by  it.  Passing  the  barriers  of  States  and  sections, 


6  INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE. 

it  embraces  the  whole  Confederacy,  and  becomes  American.  His  esprit 
de  corps  as  a  lawyer,  is  equally  marked.  And  this,  too,  we  sincerely 
respect  and  cordially  commend.  •  No  one  ought  to  be  a  lawyer,  or 
anything  else,  who  is  not  proud  of  it.  If  there  is  any  good  and  suffi 
cient  reason  for  one's  not  feeling  an  honourable  pride  in  his  profession, 
he  should  abandon  it.  If  there  be  no  such  reason,  and  he  yet  have  no 
such  pride,  then  he  will  never  honour  his  vocation,  and  it  will  never 
honour  him.  They  will  mutually  disgrace  each  other.  And  if  he  will 
not  abandon  it,  then  it  should  abandon  him — as  we  believe  Themis 
often  does  many  an  unworthy  votary,  leaving  him  without  "  a  local 
habitation,"  or  "a  name,"  clientless,  briefless,  penniless. 

But  not  only  in  the  spirit  of  the  barrister,  but  in  the  manner  also,  does 
our  author  show  the  class  of  intellectual  workers  to  which  he  belongs. 
He  displays  the  skill  and  ingenuity  as  well  as  the  clearness  and 
strength  of  statement  characteristic  of  the  well-trained  lawyer.  His 
facts  and  incidents,  arguments  and  illustrations  are  arranged  and  mar 
shalled  with  great  ostensible  simplicity,  but  always  with  a  keen  dis 
criminating  view  to  the  effect.  In  a  quiet,  easy,  off-hand,  half-intui 
tive  way,  (which  because  of  its  very  ease  and  quietness,  by  many 
would  be  unobserved,)  he  fastens  upon  both  the  strong  and  the  weak 
points  of  the  subject  under  review.  And  then  with  similar  facility  and 
freedom  from  display,  he  presses  them  into  his  service.  He  fitly  calls 
his  essays  "  Recreations ;"  for.  however  valuable,  they  do  not  seem  to 
have  cost  him  any  very  great  exertion.  There  is  no  apparent  friction 
of  the  powers,  no  jarring  and  creaking  of  machinery,  no  painful  and 
destructive  "  wear  and  tear."  All  is  easy,  pretentionless,  practical, 
plain. 

The  author's  "  Christianity,"  too,  is  as  conspicuous  and  prominent 
as  his  "  Legal  Profession."  Some  have  thought  that  the  two  could  not 
"dwell  together  in  unity."  He  seems  to  us  to  have  given  in  his  book 
a  double  demonstration  of  the  fallacy  of  that  opinion.  However  dis 
cordant  and  antagonistic  in  the  theory,  and  especially  the  practice,  of 
some  others,  in  his  they  would  seem  most  happily  to  harmonize.  So 
far  from  considering  the  one  as  essentially  and  necessarily  hostile  to 
the  other,  he  rather  regards  them  as  really  in  the  strictest  and  most 
beautiful  accord.  Both  having  to  do  essentially  with  law — law  whose 
;'  seat  is  the  bosom  of  God,  and  whose  voice  is  the  harmony  of  the 
world,"  it  were  strange,  indeed,  if  they  should  be  discordant  and  ne 
cessarily  repellant  of  each  other.  The  author's  Christianity  is  exhib 
ited,  we  will  not  say  in  honesty  and  fairness,  truthfulness  and  candour, 
as  a  critic — for  men  of  very  little  Christianity,  have  sometimes,  in 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE.  7 

even  an  eminent  degree,  displayed  these  qualities — but,  (to  say  nothing 
of  his  frequent  and  strong  expressions  directly  or  indirectly  made  upon 
the  subject.)  in  a  certain  very  manifest  charity  as  well  as  conscientious 
ness  of  thought,  sentiment,  and  allusion  ;  strictness  of  statement,  mod 
eration  of  language,  mildness  of  manner,  indicative  of  self-denial  5 
(temptations  to  the  exhibition  of  very  different  qualities  being,  in  nu 
merous  instances,  by  no  means  wanting  ;)  and  above  all,  in  a  certain 
elevation  of  sentiment  and  softness  of  tone  eminently  becoming  the 
disciple  and  follower  of  the  meek  man  of  Nazareth,  who,  'while  not 
withholding  from  the  haughty  Scribe  and  the  self-righteous  Pharisee 
intense  and  burning  denunciation,  when  truth  and  justice,  the  interest 
of  man  and  the  authority  of  God,  demanded  it,  yet  beautifully  fulfilled, 
in  its  true  sense  and  spirit  the  prediction, 

"  He  shall  not  strive  nor  cry, 

Neither  shall  any  man  hear  his  voice  in  the  streets  ; 

A  bruised  reed  shall  he  not  break, 

And  smoking  flax  shall  he  not  quench/' 

We  do  not  doubt  that  with  the  high  moral  qualities  which  we  have 
just  now  mentioned,  the  original  and  native  character  has  often  much 
to  do.  But  still  there  is  something  about  them  in  their  fullest  and  best 
development,  which  marks  a  higher  source.  The  essay  on  Chat- 
terton, 

"  The  marvellous  boy, 
The  sleepless  soul  that  perished  in  his  pride," 

while  it  shows  the  native  sympathy  of  the  author's  heart  ever  prompt 
ing  him  to  side  with  the  weak  and  the  unfortunate,  rather  than  with 
the  prosperous  and  the  strong,  also  furnishes  striking  illustration  of 
that  moral  and  religious  tone  to  which,  as  characteristic,  we  have  called 
attention. 

Extended  as  our  introductory  notice  already  is,  we  cannot  consent  to 
close  it  without  a  few  words  in  respect  to  the  style  of  the  book.  Easy, 
unaffected,  perspicuous,  natural,  there  is  no  straining  after  mere  verbal 
and  lingual  effect — no  effort  at  the  "brilliant,"  and  the  "splendid." 
There  are  no  pretty  conceits — no  abortive  attempts  at  the  witty,  the 
humorous,  and  the  epigrammatic.  None  of  these  things,  and  things 
similar,  which  have  ever  been  the  bane  of  review-writing.  What 
ever  positive  excellencies  of  style  the  author  may  want,  whatever  the 
literary  crimes  and  misdemeanors  with  which  he  may  be  chargeable, 
we  cannot  refrain  from  congratulating  him  warmly  upon  his  freedom 


8  INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE. 

from  the  vices,  the  crying  sins,  of  style,  which  we  have  just  indicated. 
With  him  language  is  what  language  was  designed  to  be,  a  means  and 
not  an  end — the  vehicle,  and  nothing  more,  of  the  sentiment  and  the 
thought.  When  we  read  some  of  our  fine  writers  of  the  Hervey  or 
Headley,  Phillips  or  Gilfillan  type,  we  cannot,  if  we  try,  look  aside 
from  their  language  more  than  we  can  from  the  mists  and  clouds 
which  sometimes  burden  and  darken  the  air.  In  reading  our 
author,  however,  his  language  is  forgotten.  There  is  something 
beyond  it,  for  which  we  are  looking,  that  engages  and  absorbs 
our  attention.  He  expresses  himself  in  a  direct,  plain,  practical 
way,  never  being  afraid  as  so  many  with  weak  and  sickly  taste 
would  seem  to  be,  to  close  a  sentence  with  the  particle  "to"  or  "at," 
or  any  other,  that,  coming  at  his  call,  pleases  him.  He  uses  language 
as  he  does  his  facts  and  arguments  in  a  perfectly  business-like  manner, 
just  as  we  might  suppose  he  would  in  a  legal  case,  employ  the  evi 
dence  upon  which  he  relied  to  sustain  his  cause.  His  style  is  the 
clear  and  transparent  atmosphere  of  his  mind  through  which,  bright 
and  distinctly  defined,  appear  its  stars  of  sentiment  and  thought,  un 
attended  by  any  of  those  hazy  splendours  which  hang  around  the 
horizon  of  so  many  minds. 

Having  said  thus  much — more,  perhaps,  than  we  should  have  said, — 
we  now  cordially  commend  to  the  reader's  regard  as  both  pleasant 
and  profitable,  the  "  Recreations  of  a  Southern  Barrister." 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.* 

In  one  of  his  Imaginary  Conversations,  Landor  dis 
courses  upon  the  disinclination  manifested  on  the  part  of 
contemporaries  to  render  to  men  of  genius  the  honors  justly 
due  them.  The  fact  is  universal,  and  has  been  frequently 
referred  to.  Contemporary  judgments  and  the  judgment 
of  posterity  so  frequently  and  so  widely  differ,  that  we  are 
not  authorized,  from  the  possession  of  present  reputation, 
even  to  infer  the  probable  guaranty  of  future  fame.  The 
rule  would  seem  to  be  just  the  reverse :  that  the  present 
and  the  future  are  at  such  discord  that  he  who  would  se 
cure  the  favors  of  the  present  must  consent,  in  large  part. 
to  relinquish  the  honors  of  the  future.  But  for  the  obscu 
rity  of  the  shell,  the  pearl  would  never  have  ripened  ;  and 
all  the  fame  (properly  so  called)  which  is  worth  the  hav 
ing  has  been  strictly  posthumous — chiefly  the  fruit  of  pre 
sent  obscurity  and  toil. 

The  career  of  the  wonderful  Chatterton  forms  no  excep 
tion  to  this  rule.  While  he  had  won  notoriety  during  his 
life ;  while  his  name  had  been  remarked  as  an  example  of 
extraordinary  precocity  of  intellect— and,  too,  of  deprav 
ity — he  has  become  famous,  if  at  all,  since  his  body  was 

*  The  Poetical  Works  of  Thomas  Chatterton:  with  notices  of  his  life;  a 
history  of  the  Rowley  controversy;  a  selection  of  his  letters  ;  notes 
critical  and  explanatory,  and  a  glossary.  In  two  volumes.  Boston  : 
Little,  Brown  &  Co.  1857. 

2 


10  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

Interred  in  the  pauper's  graveyard,  in  Shoe  Lane,  London  ! 
That  time  will  vindicate  the  judgment  of  Southey,  and 
condemn  the  strictures  of  Chalmers  and  the  prophecy  of 
Foster,  is,  we  think,  beyond  question.  A  century  has 
nearly  elapsed  since  he  has  run  his  race  ;  but  it  has  not  di 
minished,  it  has  rather  increased  the  interest  which  was 
first  discovered  in  his  career,  and  awakened  by  the  fruits 
of  his  splendid  genius. 

In  the  study  of  his  life,  we  know  not  which  most  to  ad 
mire  :  the  splendor  of  his  intellectual  powers,  his  wonder 
ful  and  rapid  attainments  in  almost  every  department  of 
thought  and  walk  of  science,  the  waywardness  of  his 
course,  or  the  steady  and  persevering  attachment,  exhibit 
ed  under  the  most  trying  discouragements,  to  the  mythic 
personage  his  fancy  had  created.  Rowley  was  his  other 
self — with  all  of  his  genius,  and  but  few  if  any  of  his  foi 
bles  ;  and  to  the  hour  of  his  death,  Chatterton  asserted 
and  maintained  the  genius  of  the  priest  at  the  expense  of 
his  own. 

Chatterton's  life  has  been  the  theme  of  almost  innume 
rable  sketches,  and  the  sober  work  of  half  a  score  of  biog 
raphies.  They  have  all  failed  in  meeting  the  want  ex 
pressed  by  Walter  Scott,  a  half  century  ago.  The  life 
and  character  of  the  poet  has  never  been  drawn  "  by  the 
hand  of  a  master."  While  the  lives  written  by  Dix  and 
Gregory,  and  even  that  of  Chalmers,  furnished  useful  hints 
and  facts  in  the  history  of  Chatterton,  and  for  these  rea 
sons  are  to  be  commended,  yet  they  all  leave  unsolved  the 
mystery  which  his  life  presents.  By  one  he  has  been  de 
scribed  as  very  nearly  approaching  a  demon.  Another 
has  painted  him  as  almost  a  saint.  His  latest  biographer, 
whose  work  prefixes  this  edition  and  the  Cambridge  edition 
of  his  poems,  has  attempted  to  hit  the  golden  mean,  and 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  11 

in  doing  so  presents  us  with  a  piece  of  patchwork,  in  the 
style  of  the  Turkey  carpet.  In  the  compass  of  a  dozen 
pages,  in  the  way  of  foot-notes  to  the  poems,  we  meet  with 
the  fierce  criticism  of  Foster,  the  glowing  eulogies  of 
Southey.  and  the  moderate  and  justly-balanced  judgments 
of  Scott.  In  the  biography  proper,  the  writer  one  moment 
recommends  the  poet  to  mercy,  on  account  of  his  youth ; 
and  the  next,  startles  us  by  the  declaration  that  Chatter- 
ton's  "moral  nature  was  essentially  manly,"  and  that  uhis 
faults  were  all  the  growth  of  a  strong  and  vigorous  heart 
and  of  a  searching  and  masculine  intellect."  Either  may 
be  true ;  but  is  it  probable  that  they  are  both  true?  Chat- 
terton,  with  the  biographer,  is  also  religious,  and  his  piety 
too  is  after  the  manner  of  Shelley !  whom,  in  apparent 
sincerity,  the  biographer  declares  "  to  have  been  the  most 
religious  of  all  men!"  Heaven  forefend  us  !  Mr.  Wilcox, 
the  reputed  author  of  the  narrative  we  now  refer  to,  must 
have  contracted  a  fondness  for  the  marvellous  and  striking 
by  the  study  of  our  poet,  or  else  he  has  aspired  to  imitate 
him  as  a  practical  jester,  when  he  makes  such  a  declara 
tion  as  this.  He  feels  that  he  is  giving  utterance  to  no 
commonly  cherished  opinion  in  thus  canonizing  Shelley  ! 
Hence  he  adds :  "  There  are  many  who  cannot  understand 
this,  and  to  such  will  offence  come.  These  see,  not  with 
the  eye  of  faith,  but  with  the  fleshly  vision  only."  The 
good  priest,  Thomas  Rowleie,  would  hardly  have  sanction 
ed  such  a  sentiment  as  this. 

Chatterton  was  born  on  the  20th  November,  1752,  in 
the  city  of  Bristol.  His  parentage  was  humble.  His 
father  was  at  one  time  writing-usher  to  a  classical  school, 
and  afterwards  a  chorister  in  Bristol  Cathedral.  He  was 
still  chorister  when  he  died,  in  August,  1752 ;  and  he  had 
held,  in  conjunction,  the  office  of  head-master  in  Bristol 


12  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

free  school.     He  Avas  a  man,  so  the  biographer  informs  us, 
"  of  dissipated  habits  and  of  a  brutal  disposition."     Chat- 
terton's  mother  is  said  to  have  exhibited  some  of  the  traits 
which  subsequently  distinguished   her  unhappy  son.     She 
was  of  a  melancholy  disposition,  of  mild  and  amiable  quali 
ties,  and  most   devotedly  attached   to  her   children.     In 
Chatterton's  character  there  was  the  blending  of  the  two — 
the  pride,  and,   in   some  measure,  the   dissipation   of  the 
father,  and  the  kindness,  occasional  melancholy,  and  affec 
tion  of  the  mother.     Up  to  the  fifth  year  of  his  age,  Chat- 
terton  was  no  prodigy.     If  remarkable  for  any  thing,  he 
was  remarkable  for  dulness  and  stupidity,  "receiving  into  his 
apparently  obtuse  skull  no  portion  of  the  luminous  instruc 
tion  which   the  pedagogue  of  a  free  school  could  be  sup 
posed  to  impart."     It  was  feared  he  would  prove  an  incor 
rigible  dunce.     Chance,   however,   awoke   his   slumbering 
genius,  and    an    illuminated    French  musical   manuscript 
proved  an  apter  teacher  than  mother  or  pedagogue.     The 
boy  "fell  in  love"   with  it,  says  his  mother;  and  having 
thus  got  into  the  mysteries  of  the  alphabet,  he  began  to 
read.     This  manuscript,  together  with  a  black-letter  Bible, 
completely  metamorphosed  the  dull  boy  into  an  apt  scholar. 
Poetry  and  black-letter  !  We  may  read  in  the  juxtaposition 
the  character  of  the  future  creator   of  Rowley.     Would 
that  we  could  also  discover  a  significance  in  the  holy  wri 
tings  which  were  his  earliest  mental  exercise.     Doubtless 
they  moulded  the  intellectual  and  gave  a  tinge  to  the  emo 
tional  character  of  the  reader ;  yet  we  shall  discover  but 
very  slight  traces  of  their  influence  in  his  future   career. 
Chatterton's  intellectual  development  begins  at  this  period. 
He  becomes  a  rapacious  reader,  and  devours  with  avidity 
all  that  he  can  reach.     His  ambition  and  pride  grow  with 
his  expanding  genius.     A  characteristic  anecdote  is  told 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  13 

of  him  at  this  time,  illustrating  the  maturity  of  both  :  An 
artificer  desired  to  carve  a  design  on  a  cup  as  a  present  for 
him.  He  asked  what  design  would  suit  him.  "  Paint  me," 
said  the  boy,  "  paint  me  an  angel,  with  wings,  and  a  trum 
pet  to  trumpet  my  name  over  the  world  !"  Probably  urged 
on  by  this  insatiate  desire  for  notoriety,  as  well  as  the  nat 
ural  stimulus  and  thirst  for  knowledge  which  the  mental 
excitement  created,  by  reading  superinduced,  the  boy  con 
tinued  to  grow  into  habits  of  study  and  thought,  shutting 
himself  in  his  little  garret  when  at  home,  or  taking  long 
and  out-of-the-way  strolls,  with  his  books  under  his  arm, 
and  not  returning  for  hours.  Once  he  was  chastised  for 
his  long  absence.  His  manly  spirit  forbade  his  shedding  a 
tear.  He  merely  said,  "  It  was  hard,  indeed,  to  be  whipped 
for  reading." 

But  one  thing  more  was  needed  to  complete  the  charac 
ter  of  the  severe  student  and  youthful  antiquary,  and  that 
was  supplied  by  the  proximity  of  his  mother's  residence  to 
St.  Mary  Redcliffe  Church.  This  ancient  church  had  stood 
now  nearly  three  hundred  years,  and  was  as  remarkable 
for  the  magnificence  of  its  structure  as  for  its  antiquity  and 
venerableness.  It  abounded  in  long,  dim  aisles  and  noble 
arches,  reaching  to  almost  illimitable  dimensions.  There 
was  the  tomb  of  worthy  Mastre  Canynge,  the  founder,  or 
at  least  the  rebuilder,  of  the  noble  pile,  and  the  patron  ge 
nius  of  the  Mr.  Thomas  Rowleie,  whose  curious  and  recon 
dite  manuscripts  had  lain  for  four  centuries  and  upwards 
buried  in  a  chest  in  the  muniment  room  in  the  church.1  This 
chest  had  six  keys  to  it.  and  was  not  disturbed  until  the 
father  of  the  poet  had  plundered  the  parchments  on  which 
they  were  written  to  cover  copy-books  in  his  useful  vocation 
of  usher  to  the  Bristol  school !  Chatterton,  in  one  of  his 
letters,  gives  a  description  of  the  venerable  edifice,  in  at- 


14  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

tempting  a  panegyric  on  an  artist  in  music  :  "  Step  into 
Redcliffe  Church ;  look  at  the  noble  arches  ;  observe  the 
symmetry,  the  regularity  of  the  whole  :  how  amazing  must 
that  idea  be  which  can  comprehend  at  once  all  that  magni 
ficence  of  architecture.  Do  not  examine  one  particular 
beauty  or  dwell  upon  it  minutely ;  take  [in]  the  astonish 
ing  whole,  and  then  think  that  what  the  architect  of  that 
pile  was  in  building,  Allen  is  in  music."  The  ancestors  of 
Chatterton  had  filled  the  office  of  sexton  to  this  church  for 
upwards  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  years.  At  this  time,  his 
uncle  held  the  position,  and  Chatterton  had  free  access  to 
the  several  parts  of  the  building.  Here  he  most  resorted 
and  chiefly  spent  his  hours,  seated  upon  the  tomb  of  Ca- 
nynge,  whose  character  and  career  he  was  subsequently  to 
perpetuate.  Here  doubtless  dawned  upon  him  the  concep 
tion  of  the  Rowley  manuscripts ;  not  in  very  truth  drawn 
from  the  dim  cloisters  of  the  hoary  structure,  but  generated 
and  produced  in  the  mind  of  the  youthful  student  and  wor 
shipper  of  her  antique  walls  and  crumbling  monuments. 
One  name,  at  least,  he  would  rescue  from  the  jaws  of  de 
vouring  time  and  embalm  in  never-dying  song. 

In  August,  1760,  Chatterton  was  admitted  to  the  charity 
school  at  Bristol.  He  soon  became  disgusted  with  it.  They 
taught  him  nothing  but  the  ordinary  branches  of  the  com 
monest  English  education.  He  complained  that  they  had 
not  books  enough  there.  But  one  tender  association  is 
connected  with  this  school.  The  usher  was  a  poet,  and 
had  a  taste  for  history.  A  firm  attachment  sprung  up  be 
tween  him  and  Chatterton.  The  usher's  fame  in  writing 
verses  raised  in  the  school  hosts  of  rivals;  but,  strange  to  say, 
we  are  informed  by  one  of  Chatterton's  contemporaries,  it 
never  aroused  the  emulation  of  the  poet.  In  an  elegy, 
published  among  his  acknowledged  poems,  Chatterton  be- 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  15 

moans  this  "friend  to  genius,  sciences,  and  the  arts."  He 
had  few  faster  friends,  or  more  faithful  monitors  and  ad 
vancers  of  his  wayward  early  genius,  than  Thomas  Phillips, 
the  usher  of  Bristol  charity  school.  Not  many  notable 
matters  can  be  discovered  in  the  life  of  our  poet.  He  re 
mained  at  the  Bristol  school  nearly  six  years,  when  he  was 
taken  and  apprenticed  to  one  Lambert,  an  attorney,  of 
little  practice  and  of  a  prosaic  and  passionate  temper.  Up 
to  his  leaving  Bristol  for  London,  these  were  the  only 
changes  in  his  condition  worthy  of  note. 

The  earliest  production  of  Chatterton's  muse,  strangely 
enough  for  a  boy  of  such  parts  and  industry,  does  not  ex 
hibit  remarkable  precocity.  It  was  a  set  of  verses  on  the 
last  Epiphany,  written  at  the  time  of  his  confirmation,  in 
the  tenth  year  of  his  age : 

"  ON    THE    LAST    EPIPHANY,    OR    CHRIST    COMING    TO    JUDGMENT." 

"  Behold,  just  coming  from  above, 

The  Judge,  with  majesty  and  love  ! 

The  sky  divides  and  rolls  away, 

T'  admit  him  through  the  realms  of  day. 

The  sun,  astonished,  hides  its  face  ; 

The  moon  and  stars  with  wonder  gaze 

At  Jesu's  bright  superior  rays! 

Dread  lightnings  flash,  and  thunders  roar, 

And  shake  the  earth  and  briny  shore  ; 

The  trumpet  sounds  at  Heaven's  command, 

And  pierceth  through  the  sea  and  land. 

The  dead  in  each  now  hear  the  voice  ; 

The  sinners  fear  and  saints  rejoice; 

For  now  the  awful  hour  is  come, 

When  every  tenant  of  the  tomb 

Must  rise  and  lake  his  everlasting  doom!" 

We  scarcely  discover  here  the  flutterings  even  of  the 
unfledged  eaglet.  "  From  the  time  he  began  to  learn. 


10  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

(writes  Chatterton's  sister,)  he  had  been  gloomy ;  but  lie 
became  more  cheerful  when  he  began  to  write  poetry. 
Some  satirical  pieces  we  saw  soon  after."  His  first  satiri 
cal  poem,  though  its  authorship  has  been  questioned,  writ 
ten  at  eleven  years  of  age,  betrays  more  maturity  and 
power,  though  still  sadly  deficient  in  the  spirit,  and  much 
more  in  the  pathos,  of  the  future  Rowley.  The  poem  was 
occasioned  by  the  order  of  a  churchwarden  to  level  a  grave 
yard;  of  which  he  had  the  care.  Except  as  an  indication 
of  the  growth  of  the  poet's  mind,  and  of  his  early  ten 
dency  to  satire  and  invective,  it  would  be  hardly  worthy  of 
mention.  It  is  entitled, 

"  THE    CHURCHWARDEN    AND    THE    APPARITION/' 

"The  night  was  cold,  the  wind  was  high, 

And  stars  bespangled  all  the  sky; 

Churchwarden  J.  E.  had  laid  him  down, 

And  slept  secure  on  bed  of  down. 

But  still  the  pleasing  hope  of  gain, 

That  never  left  his  active  brain, 

Exposed  his  churchyard  to  his  view — 

That  seat  of  treasure  wholly  new. 

':  Pull  down  that  cross!"  he  quickly  cried. 

The  mason  instantly  complied ; 

When  lo !  behold  the  golden  prize 

Appears! — joy  sparkles  in  his  eyes. 

The  door  now  creaks — the  window  shakes  ; 

With  sudden  fear  he  starts  and  wakes  ! 

Quaking  and  pale,  in  eager  haste, 

His  haggard  eyes  around  he  cast. 

A  ghastly  phantom,  lean  and  wan, 

That  instant  rose  and  thus  began  : 

'  Weak  wretch  !   to  think  to  blind  my  eyes  ! 

Hypocrisy's  a  thin  disguise. 

Your  humble  mien  and  fawning  tongue 

Have  oft  deceived  the  old  and  young  : 

On  this  side  now,  and  now  on  that-  - 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  17 

The  very  emblem  of  the  bat — 

Whatever  part  you  take,  we  know 

'Tis  only  interest  makes  it  so  ; 

And  though  with  sacred  zeal  you  burn, 

Religion's  only  for  your  turn. 

I'm  Conscience  called  !'  J.  E.  greatly  feared. 

The  lightning  flashed — it  disappeared." 

Chatterton's  literary  career,  proper,  began  with  the  pro 
duction  of  the  De  Bergham  Pedigree.  The  story  is  fami 
liar.  Bergum  was  a  Bristol  pewterer,  who  had,  as  his 
ancestors  before  him,  followed  in  peace  and  quietness  the 
lucrative  calling  which  had  sustained  the  family  of  Ber- 
gutns  from  time  immemorial.  Our  pewterer  was  a  vain,  cred 
ulous  man — too  happy  in  the  belief  that  some  former  sire 
had  distinguished  the  name  to  inquire  too  closely  into  the 
authenticity  of  the  fact.  He  was  a  fit  subject  for  Chat 
terton's  skill.  One  day  the  boy  brought  to  his  friend, 
Bergum,  a  document  with  odd-sounding  names  and  magni 
ficent  titles,  which  he  declared  was  the  De  Bergham  pedi 
gree  to  the  time  of  William  the  conqueror ;  tracing  the 
origin  of  the  pewterer  from  the  daughter  of  Waltheof,  Earl 
of  Northumberland,  Northampton  and  Huntington !  Such 
suddenness  of  fortune  bewildered  his  intellects.  He  re 
warded  the  youthful  antiquary  by  the  present  of  five  shil 
lings,  and  probably  forgot  to  inquire  how  and  when  Chat- 
terton  came  by  it,  and  where  the  original  had  been  discov 
ered.  The  trick  was  altogether  successful ;  and  success 
emboldened  a  second  achievment,  more  remarkable  than 
the  first.  A  fortnight  afterwards,  the  discoverer  produced 
"a  continuation  of  the  account  of  the  Bergham  family," 
(down  to  within  a  safe  distance  of  the  pewterer's  recollec 
tion.)  In  this  second  pedigree,  "  collected,  as  the  former, 
from  original  records,  tournament  rolls,  and  the  heralds  of 
march  and  garter  records,"  he  is  assured  that  one  of  his 


18  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

progenitors  was  the  greatest  ornament  of  his  age,  and  an 
undoubted  son  of  Parnassus  ;  and  that  John  De  Bergham, 
this  poetical  ancestor,  a  partial  list  of  whose  works  is 
given,  was  the  author  of  the  "Romaunte  of  the  Cnyghte," 
which  he  produces  in  its  original  form,  in  token  of  the  ge 
nius  of  the  author,  and  translates  into  modern  English  for 
the  use  of  his  less  learned  descendant.  These  poems  are 
printed  with  this  collection.  Bergum  did  not  question  the 
authenticity  of  the  pedigree  or  poem,  but  preserved  them 
with  care  ;  and  it  is  said  that  several  years  after  Chatter- 
ton's  death,  fired  by  the  desire  to  imitate  his  ancestors,  he 
made  a  trip  to  London,  and  laid  before  the  heralds  of 
march  and  garter  this  pedigree  of  the  De  Bergham  family. 
His  mission  was  fruitless.  He  found  his  judges  inexorable. 
They  would  not  acknowledge  his  title  to  knighthood.  He 
retired  to  his  native  Bristol  again,  to  carry  on  the  business 
of  a  pewterer,  to  cheat  his  partner,  and  to  forget  his  dream 
ing  of  ancestral  glory.  The  heir  of  the  house  of  Bergum 
had  probably  omitted  to  question  the  discoverer  of  the  ped 
igree  where  he  had  found  it.  It  would  have  been  fortu 
nate  for  the  author  if  he  had  always  met  with  subjects  so 
easy  of  faith  in  the  marvellous. 

The  true  date  of  the  origin  of  the  Rowley  poems  has 
never  been  ascertained.  Whether  Chatterton  began  to 
write  them  before  or  after  being  articled  to  Lambert  is  not 
known.  It  is  probable  they  had  been  commenced  before, 
and  were  in  some  process  of  completion  when  the  poet  took 
upon  himself  the  duties  of  an  attorney's  apprentice.  It 
was,  we  imagine,  however,  chiefly  done  while  he  remained 
with  Lambert.  While  there,  he  was  frequently  employed 
in  making  verse,  and  on  more  than  one  occasion  put  his 
master  into  an  ill-temper  on  account  of  it.  His  master,  he 
complained,  was  "  continually  insulting  him,  and  making 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  19 

his  life  miserable,  tearing  up  and  destroying  his  composi 
tions,  and  annoying  him  with  coarse  and  contemptuous 
allusions  ;"  and  this  though  the  apprentice  discharged  faith 
fully  his  duties,  and  had  beside  shown  some  desire  to  mas 
ter  the  mysteries  of  legal  documents  by  the  preparation  of 
a  folio  book  of  law-forms  and  precedents,  of  three  hundred 
and  odd  closely  written  pages  !  His  companions,  mean 
while,  in  Lambert's  office  were  vulgar  and  illiterate  menials, 
incapable  of  appreciating  his  employments,  and  only  fit  to 
act  in  the  capacity  of  spies  upon  his  conduct ;  in  which 
honorable  office  his  master  did  not  scruple  to  employ  them. 
No  wonder  the  boy  grew  disgusted  with  such  a  life,  and 
longed  for  greater  freedom  !  He  spent  his  evenings  at  home 
with  his  mother  and  sister,  and  at  ten  would  retire  to  his 
lodging  at  Lambert's.  It  is  no  slight  commendation  of 
his  life  in  Bristol  to  say,  that  Lambert  himself,  with  such 
opportunities  of  detection  if  Chatterton  had  indulged  in 
dissipated  habits,  bore  testimony  to  his  exemplary  con 
duct. 

Chatterton  was  at  Lambert's  when  the  first  public  dis 
play  of  an  antiquarian  taste  was  given.  The  old  bridge 
which  had  spanned  the  river  near  Bristol  for  centuries  had 
been  displaced,  and  a  new  one  constructed  in  its  stead.  It 
was  determined  to  celebrate  with  due  honors  the  day  on 
which  it  was  first  opened  to  the  public.  The  ceremony 
passed  off  well  and  happily.  Chatterton's  genius  greedily 
seized  hold  of  the  occasion  to  exhibit  itself  in  an  account 
of  the  ceremonies  observed  at  the  opening  of  the  old  bridge 
which  had  just  been  demolished.  In  Felix  Farley's  Bristol 
Journal  it  appeared,  and  purported  to  have  been  taken 
from  an  old  manuscript. 

"  MR.  PRINTER  : — The  following  description  of  the  Mayor's  first  pass- 


20  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

ing  over  the  old  bridge,  taken  from  an  old  manuscript,  may  not  (at  this 
time)  be  unacceptable  to  the  generality  of  your  readers. 

Yours,  etc.,  DUNHELMUS  BRISTOLIENSIS." 

"  On  Fridaie  was  the  time  fixed  for  passing  the  newe  Brydge  :  Aboute 
the  time  of  the  tollynge  the  tenth  Clock,  Master  Greggorie  Delbenye 
mounted  on  a  Fergreyne  Horse,  enformed  Master  Mayor  all  thyngs  were 
prepared ;  whan  two  Beadils  want  fyrst  streyng  fresh  stre,  next  came  a 
marine  dressed  vp  as  follows — Hose  of  goatskyn,  crinepart  outwards, 
Doublet  and  Wayscoat  also,  over  which  a  white  Robe  without  sleeves, 
much  like  an  albe,  but  not  so  long,  reeching  but  to  his  Lends  ;  a  Girdle 
of  Azure  over  his  left  shoulder,  reeched  alse  to  his  Lends  on  the 
ryght,  and  doubled  back  to  his  Left,  bucklyng  with  a  Goaldin.  Buckel, 
dangled  to  his  knee  ;  thereby  representyng  a  Saxon  Elderman.  In  his 
hand  he  bare  a  shield,  the  maystrie  of  Gill  a  Brogton,  who  paincted  the 
same  representyng  Saincte  Warburgh  crossyng  the  Ford.  Then  a  mickle 
strong  rnanne,  in  armour,  carried  a  huge  anlace,  after  whom  came  Six 
Claryons  and  Six  Minstrels,  who  sang  the  song  of  Saincte  Warburgh; 
then  came  Master  Maior,  mounted  on  a  white  Horse,  dight  with  sable 
trappyngs,  wrought  about  by  the  Nunnes  of  Saincte  Denna,  with  Gould 
and  Silver;  his  Hayr  brayded  with  Ribbons,  and  a  Chaperon,  with  the 
auntient  arms  of  Brystowe  fastende  on  his  forehead.  Master  Maior 
bare  in  his  Hande  a  Gouldin  Rodde,  and  a  congean  Squier  bare  in  his 
Hande,  his  Helmet,  walking  by  the  Syde  of  the  Horse  :  than  came  the 
Elderrnen  and  Cittie  Broders  mounted  on  Sable  Horses,  dyght  with 
white  trappyngs  an  Plumes,  and  scarlet  Copes  and  Chapeons,  having 
thereon  sable  Plumes;  after  them,  the  Preests  'and  Freeres,  Parysh, 
Mendicaunt  and  Secular,  some  Syngyng  and  others  some  Citrialles.  In 
thilk  manner  reechyng  the  Brydge,  the  Marine  with  the  anlace  strode 
on  the  fyrst  Top  of  a  Mound  yreed  in  the  midst  of  the  Brydge;  then 
want  up  the  Manne  with  the  Sheelde,  after  him  the  Ministrels  and 
Clarions.  And  then  the  Preestes  and  Freeres,  all  in  white  albs,  ma- 
kyng  a  most  goodlie  Shewe  ;  the  Maior  and  Aldermen  standyng  round, 
theie  sang  with  the  Sound  of  Clarions,  the  Song  of  Saincte  Baldwyn  ; 
which  beyng  done,  the  Mamie  on  the  Toppe  threwe  with  greet  myght 
his  Anlace  into  the  see.  and  the  Clarions  sounded  an  auntiant  Charge 
and  Forloyn  .  Then  theie  sang  againe  the  song  of  Saincte  Warburgh, 
and  proceeded  up  Chryst's  hill,  to  the  cross,  where  a  Latin  Sermon  was 
preeched  by  Ralph  de  Bhindeville.  And  with  sound  of  clarion  theie 
agayne  went  to  the  Brydge,  and  there  dined,  Spendyng  the  rest  of  the 
daie  in  Sportes  and  Plaies,  the  Freers  of  Sair.cte  Augustine  doeyng  the 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  21 

Plaie  of  the  Knyglites  of  Bristowe,  and  makyng  a  great  fire  at  night  on 
Kjnwulph  Hyll." 

Bristol  was  agog  with  excitement.  In  the  language  of 
the  biographer : 

"The  Journal  office  was  besieged.  Where  was  the  original  manu 
script?  Who  was  the  Transcriber?  Who  the  fortunate  discoverer? 
Where,  too,  was  it  discovered  1  Amongst  what  cobwebs  had  it  reposed 
for  centuries  !  and  what  spiders  had  spun  the  cobwebs  ?  Rapidly  the 
interesting  number  was  bought  up  ;  the  description  flew  from  mouth 
to  mouth,  intersecting  broadways  andbyelanes,  while  the  real  author — 
the  ex-charity  boy — young  Thomas  Chatterton,  sat  silently  laughing  In 
his  sleeve  upon  his  stool  in  Mr.  Lambert's  office." 

So  successful  a  brochure  had  not  disturbed  the  quiet  cit 
izens  of  Bristol  from  the  time  the  worthy  mayor  had  taken 
part  in  the  ceremonies  of  passing  the  first  bridge,  by  sing 
ing  to  the  sound  of  clarions  the  "  song  of  Saincte  Bald- 
wyn."  The  copy  of  Dunhelmus  Bristoliensis  was  scanned 
and  preserved,  and  its  characters  noted.  Chatterton  was 
never  entirely  successful  in  his  practical  jokes,  save  with 
Bergum  and  Barret  and  men  of  an  over-credulous  turn  of 
mind.  He  had  not  disguised  his  handwriting  when  he  gave 
to  the  Bristol  Journal  the  lucubrations  of  Bristoliensis. 
He  knew  well  the  excitement  it  had  produced.  He  doubt 
less  wished  the  discoverer  to  remain  unknown.  Ordinary 
shrewdness  would  have  suggested  under  these  circumstances 
a  prudent  abstinence,  for  a  brief  period,  from  further 
essays,  at  least  in  the  Bristol  Journal.  Yet  do  we  find 
him  (in  person,  we  suppose,  and  at  the  Farley  office)  pre 
senting  for  insertion,  immediately  afterwards,  another  doc 
ument  written  in  the  fair  hand  of  the  discoverer.  He  was 
immediately  recognized.  "The  alarm  was  sounded,"  and 
attorney  Lambert's  office  was  besieged,  not  for  the  prepa 
ration  of  recondite  specimens  of  legal  lore,  but  for  the 


22  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

original  of  the  copy  of  the  "old  bridge  ceremonies."  The 
original  was  not  produced,  though  the  discoverer  was  en 
treated  and  threatened  by  turns.  He  told  two  stories 
about  it :  the  one,  that  it  was  among  a  parcel  of  old  man 
uscripts  a  gentleman  had  employed  him  to  transcribe  ;  the 
other,  that  it  had  come  from  the  large  chest  with  six  keys 
in  the  muniment-room  of  the  St.  Mary  Redcliffe  church. 
After  Chatterton's  death,  its  real  origin  was  made  known. 
To  a  Mr.  Reedhall,  an  intimate  friend  of  Chatterton,  he 
had  communicated  the  secret.  Reedhall  promised  con 
cealment.  It  was  not  disclosed  till  in  1779,  when,  "  on 
the  prospect  of  procuring  a  gratuity  of  ten  pounds  for 
Chatterton's  mother  from  a  gentleman  who  came  to  Bristol 
in  order  to  collect  information  concerning  her  son's  his 
tory,  he  divulged  it."  The  real  author  the  reader  need 
not  be  told  was  the  attorney's  apprentice,  Thomas  Chat 
terton.  There  are  facts,  however,  connected  with  Reed- 
hall's  account,  noteworthy,  inasmuch  as  they  throw  light 
upon  Chatterton's  facility  in  making  ancient  manuscripts 
out  of  new  ones.  Reedhall  says  : 

"That  Chatterton  brought  to  him  one  day  a  piece  of  parchment  about 
the  size  of  a  half-sheet  of  foolscap  paper.  Mr.  Reedhall  did  not  think 
any  thing  was  written  on  it  when  produced  by  Chatterton,  but  he  saw 
him  write  several  words,  if  not  lines,  in  a  character  which  R.  did  not 
understand.  They  were  totally  unlike  English,  and,  as  he  apprehended, 
were  meant  by  Chatterton  to  imitate  or  represent  the  original  from 
which  this  account  was  printed.  He  could  not  determine  precisely 
how  much  Chatterton  wrote  in  this  manner,  but  the  time  spent  in  the 
visit  did  not  exceed  three-quarters  of  an  hour.  He  said  also,  that  when 
Chatterton  had  written  on  the  parchment,  he  held  it  over  the  candle 
to  give  it  the  appearance  of  antiquity,  which  changed  the  color  of  the 
ink,  and  made  the  parchment  appear  black  and  contracted  :  he  never 
saw  him  make  any  similar  attempt,  nor  was  the  parchment  produced 
afterwards  by  Chatterton  to  him,  or  (as  far  as  he  knows)  to  any  other 
person." 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  23 

Immediately  after  the  publication  of  the  old  bridge  man 
uscript,  he  finds  a  new  acquaintance,  or  revives  an  old  one, 
in  the  person  of  Mr.  Catcott,  of  Bristol,  the  partner  of 
Mr.  Bergum,  the  pewterer,  whose  name  Chatterton  had 
already  made  famous.  Catcott,  it  seems,  was  a  man  of 
literary  tastes,  and  fond  of  antiquarian  researches.  Walk 
ing  one  day  in  Redcliffe  church,  he  was  informed  by  a 
friend  that  several  ancient  pieces  of  poetry  had  lately  been 
discovered  there,  and  were  in  possession  of  Chatterton, 
whom  the  speaker  described  as  "  an  extraordinary  young 
man."  Catcott  sought  an  introduction  to  the  poet,  and, 
in  a  brief  period,  an  intimacy  grew  up  between  them.  We 
find  him  now  giving  to  Catcott  a  copy  of  "  The  Bristowe 
Tragedy,"  "Rowley's  Epitaph  upon  Canynge's  Ancestor," 
other  smaller  pieces,  afterwards,  "The  Yellow  Roll."  Cat 
cott,  we  imagine,  by  repeated  solicitation,  redoubled  the 
labors  of  our  poet,  and,  perhaps,  to  the  amiable  importu 
nity  and  credulous  curiosity  of  this  friend,  we  owe  many 
of  the  Rowley  poems.  We  discover  as  much  told  as  this 
in  the  following  lines,  taken  from  Chatterton's  Last  Will 
and  Testament. 

"  Catcott,  for  thee,  I  know  thy  heart  is  good, 

But.  ah!  thy  merit  's  seldom  understood; 

Too  bigoted  to  whimsies,  which  thy  youth 

Received  to  venerate  as  gospel  truth, 

Thy  friendship  never  could  be  dear  to  me, 

Since  all  I  am  is  opposite  to  thee. 

If  ever  obligated  to  thy  purse, 

Rowley  discharges  all — my  first  chief  curse  ! 

For  had  I  never  known  the  antique  lore, 

I  ne'er  had  ventured  from  my  peaceful  shore. 

To  be  the  wreck  of  promises  and  hopes, 

A  Soy  of  Learning,  and  a  Bard  of  Tropes; 

But  happy  in  my  humble  sphere  had  moved, 

Untroubled,  unsuspected,  unbeloved.r* 


24  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

Some  have  discovered  in  these  verses  the  affirmation  by 
Chatterton  of  the  genuineness  of  the  Rowley  poems.  We 
cannot  so  read  them.  We  think  they  speak  the  other  way  ; 
at  least,  they  are  an  ambiguous  voice,  and  of  little  worth. 
Catcott  is  soon  followed  by  Barret,  the  Bristol  surgeon 
and  historian.  Treasures  hitherto  undiscovered  were  made 
known  to  Barret.  The  specimens,  the  favorable  specimens 
of  Rowley's  genius  produced  to  him  are  scrutinized  and 
pronounced  authentic  by  the  two,  and  the  historian  hastens 
to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  young  and  unfledged 
attorney,  and  to  secure  the  manuscripts  for  his  work  !  Row 
ley  was  not  merely  a  priest  and  poet,  but  a  prose  writer  as 
•well :  and  in  a  few  days  the  delighted  historian  is  furnished 
from  the  Rowley  MSS.  "  with  a  true  and  particular  ac 
count  of  the  ancient  churches  of  Bristol,  which  formerly 
occupied  the  sites  of  the  existing  structures;"  a  few  days 
more,  and  another  mouldy  manuscript  is  produced ;  again, 
another  and  another ;  all  authentic,  and  all  solemnly  in 
troduced  into  the  otherwise  learned  and  elaborate  history 
of  Bristol  by  the  good  Mr.  Barret !  Naughty  Thomas 
Chatterton !  would  it  not  suffice  thee  to  turn  the  head  of 
the  tradesman  Bergum  with  black-letter  and  march  and 
garter  titles  ?  and  to  set  Bristol  agape  with  antique  ac 
counts  of  old  bridges  recently  discovered,  and  veritable 
descriptions  of  the  farces  enacted  at  them  ?  Would  it  not 
suffice  thee  to  coin  tragedies  in  verse,  and  priests  to  write 
them,  for  thy  amusement  and  edification  when  seated  in 
the  presence  of  the  Truth  shining  from  the  covers  of  ven 
erable  law-books  and  time-honored  parchments  ?  Must  thou 
needs  go  and  falsify  history  ?  Must  thou  record  as  fact,  or 
allow  another  to  record  as  fact,  what  thou  knowest  full 
well  was  the  product  of  thy  fertile  and  capricious  fancy, 
finding  neither  foundation  nor  even  apology  in  the  dim  pe- 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  25 

riods  into  which  thou  pretendest  to  gaze  ?  We  may  forgive 
thee  the  harmless  imposture  on  a  credulous  pewterer ;  we 
may  allow  thee  to  put  forth  as  the  poetical  productions  of  a 
holy  "prieste"  the  comings  of  thy  own  brain ;  but  we  can 
not  allow  the  fountains  of  wisdom,  the  philosophy  of  ex 
ample,  to  be  corrupted  at  their  source.  Let  not  thy  pro 
fane  hand  dare  to  touch  the  sacred  precincts  of  history  ! 
In  this,  thou  hast  not  done  well ;  and  the  pages  of  sober 
print  recorded  by  worthy  Mr.  Barret,  giving  minute  ac 
counts  from  Turgotus  of  Radclefte  and  Bryghstowe  walls 
and  castles,  will,  to  thy  dying-day  and  beyond  it,  be  a 
standing  monument  of  thy  rashness  and  folly  ! 

Chatterton,  at  the  time  of  these  "forgeries" — this  is  the 
harsh  title  some  have  applied  to  them — was  scarcely  six 
teen  years  of  age  !  What  might  have  been  expected  from 
a  boy,  had  he  ripened  into  a  man,  who  had  begun  thus 
early  to  make  history  and  to  write  it  ?  His  historical 
contributions  to  good  Mr.  Barret's  history  of  Bristol  will 
probably,  together  with  the  work  in  which  they  appeared, 
sink  into  oblivion — the  poems  remain. 

It  seems  amazing  to  us,  in  view  of  the  overwhelming 
testimony  against  the  authenticity  of  the  Rowley  poems, 
that  the  learned  world  should  so  long  have  held  dispute 
concerning  them.  Every  fact  in  their  history ;  the  manner 
of  their  production ;  the  interval  of  time  that  elapsed  be 
fore  their  being  fully  revealed ;  the  character  as  well  as 
the  genius  of  their  discoverer ;  his  confession  of  the  fact  that 
one  of  them  he  had  produced  as  Rowley's  was  his  own,  and 
that  the  best  among  them;  his  zeal  in  forwarding  the 
claims  of  the  pretended  author  at  the  expense  of  his  own — 
all  pointed,  almost  unerringly,  to  the  true  source — to 
Thomas  Chatterton,  as  the  author.  These  were  the  exter 
nal  marks.  There  were,  besides,  internal  evidences,  per- 
3 


26  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

liaps  more  convincing  and  conclusive.  Rowley's  English, 
though  in  great  part  the  English  of  his  day,  was  not  all  of 
it  in  that  category.  Words  were  used  by  him  in  the  fif 
teenth  century  which  had  not  been  in  vogue  for  a  century 
afterwards ;  and  there  were  other  words  which  could  only 
be  found  in  modern  dictionaries,  and  were  probably  mis 
prints.  His  subjects,  too,  were  novel  for  his  day  and  for 
his  vocation.  A  priest  in  calling,  and  living  in  a  priestly 
age,  when  "  devotional  hymns,  legendary  tales,  and  mor#l- 
izations  of  the  scriptures,"  were  almost  the  only  literature 
in  vogue,  his  literary  taste  is  chiefly  historical ;  and  when 
he  leaves  that  path,  we  have  "  elegant  little  poems  upon 
charitie  and  happinesse,  a  new  church,  a  living  worthy,  and 
other  occurrences  of  the  moment."  His  versification,  too, 
is  not  in  keeping  with  his  times ;  neither  his  sudden  and 
rapid  breaks  in  the  conversation,  nor  the  dramatic  ability 
displayed,  nor  the  Pindaric  metre  of  many  of  his  poems. 
His  absence  of  learning  on  points  in  which  a  priest  would 
have  been  learned  ;  the  generality  of  his  descriptions,  when 
an  eye-seer  would  have  been  minute  ;  the  very  astonishing 
fact  that  a  learned  and  ingenious  priest  of  the  fifteenth 
century  should  have  written  nothing  which  an  attorney's 
apprentice  of  the  eighteenth,  well  versed  in  old  and  modern 
English,  could  not  understand,  and  appreciate,  and  enjoy  : 
could  such  a  host  of  evidences,  all  pointing  in  one  direc 
tion,  each  of  them  singly  of  significance  and  worth,  prove 
fallacious  ?  There  ought  to  have  been  no  doubt  of  it. 
Tried  by  the  tests  of  a  nice  scrutiny  and  the  canons  of 
criticism,  rare  must  be  the  genius  of  the  man,  and  matured 
and  well  elaborated  the  results  of  his  labors,  who  shall  suc 
ceed  in  imposing  on  the  credulity  of  even  a  respectable 
minority  in  his  own  age.  Chatterton's  work  could  not 
stand  it,  though  a  marvellous  one  for  a  boy. 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  27 

In  the  present  edition  of  these  poems,  which  is  almost 
an  exact  reprint  of  the  Cambridge  edition  of  1842,  we  are 
furnished  with  a  history  of  the  Rowley  controversy.  The 
writer  has  marshalled  the  lists,  and  assigns  to  each  one  his 
proper  position  in  the  contending  hosts.  First,  Walpole, 
the  correspondent,  and  afterwards  the  defender  of  Chat- 
terton's  claims,  who,  half  angry,  we  imagine,  at  the  trick 
the  boy  had  played  on  him,  determined  to  wash  away 
the  stain  upon  his  antiquarian  gown  by  stoutly  denying 
the  existence  of  Rowley.  Then  Milles,  Dean  of  Exeter, 
and  President  of  the  Antiquarian  Society,  who  proved  his 
title  to  the  office  of  honor  by  a  vigorous  comment  upon 
Rowley,  and  a  splendid  quarto  edition  of  his  poems  I  The 
dean  closes  an  anathematic,  and,  to  himself,  an  irresistible 
series  of  arguments  for  their  genuineness,  by  the  declara 
tion  that  the  "  Death  of  Syr  Charles  Bawdin'  had  a  greater 
variety  of  internal  proofs  of  its  authenticity  than  any 
other!"  Chatterton,  it  is  known,  did  write  the  Death  of 
Sir  Charles  Bawdin !  Unfortunate  dean !  After  Milles 
comes  Dr.  Sherwin,  this  biographer  says,  "of  all  the 
vindicators  of  Rowley,  the  most  amusing  and  the  most  labo 
riously  trifling,"  and  last  on  the  Rowley  side,  and  main 
spokesman  of  them  all,  Jacob  Bryant.  Mr.  Bryant  starts 
out  with  the  simple  proposition,  that  "  every  writer  must 
know  his  own  meaning;"  and  attempts,  in  a  treatise  of  six 
hundred  pages,  to  demonstrate  that  Chatterton  did  not 
know  his — that  in  his  illustrative  notes  of  Rowley,  Chat 
terton  had  in  many  instances  grossly  misconceived  and 
misinterpreted  the  text !  If  he  had  succeeded  in  the  de 
monstration  that  Chatterton  did  not  understand  Rowley, 
we  might  probably  unite  in  the  verdict  he  has  rendered. 
But  is  it  quite  true  that  "  every  author  understands  him 
self  ?"  Mr.  Bryant  might  have  paused  here  as  a  debateable 


28  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

point.  Subsequently,  Warton,  and  Malone,  and  Stevens 
Pinkerton,  Jamieson,  and  Sir  Herbert  Croft3,  engaged  in 
the  controversy,  taking  the  side  of  Chatterton,  and  vindi 
cating  his  claims.  Of  these  Warton  was  the  chief  and  the 
most  successful  advocate ;  and,  indeed,  he  may  be  said  to  have 
settled  and  put  to  rest  the  anti- Chatterton  advocates  for  ever 
But  we  should  not  dwell  too  long  upon  the  merely  criti 
cal  history  of  these  poems.  They  have  something  more 
than  antique  diction  and  the  natural  curiosity  excited  in 
regard  to  their  origin  to  awaken  attention  to  their  claims. 
They  are  characterized  by  aptness  and  simplicity  of  ex 
pression,  and  abound  in  touches  of  exquisite  pathos  and 
beauty.  Chatterton  was  not  a  scholar  in  the  vulgar  use  of 
the  term.  He  had  not  mastered  any  other  language  than 
his  own,  but  he  was  a  master  of  that.  He  had  learned  to 
read  and  admire,  and  he  had  caught  the  spirit  of  the  best 
writers  of  pure  English,  and  he  had  made  himself  familiar 
with  the  splendid  productions  of  the  ancients.  It  may 
have  been  his  fondness  of  the  old  for  the  old's  sake,  a  pas 
sion  for  antiquity — the  ruling  passion  of  his  life — which 
attracted  him  to  the  stories  and  poetry  of  the  ancients.  It 
may  have  been  the  mere  thirst  for  learning  which  prompt 
ed  him  to  the  new — a  thirst  with  him  insatiable  and  which 
he  would  willingly  have  slaked  at  any  fountain.  But,  how 
ever  implanted,  this  spirit  had  been  cherished,  and  exhibits 
itself  everywhere  on  the  pages  of  his  writings.  In  this 
respect,  Chatterton's  acknowledged  poems  and  the  writings 
of  Thomas  Rowley  are  one.  Of  the  later  writers,  Chat 
terton's  genius  seems  chiefly  to  have  been  impressed  by  the 
writings  of  Pope :  and  he  has  so  familiarized  himself  with 
Pope's  translations  of  Homer  and  satires,  that  he  every 
where  catches  and  transfers  his  spirit.  While  excelling 
his  master  in  some  of  the  regions  of  sentiment,  he  is 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  29 

scarcely  inferior  in  those  departments  which  Pope's  genius 
and  circumstances  were  peculiarly  adapted  to  produce. 
The  very  genius  of  Chatterton  was  against  his  success  in 
the  Rowley  imposture.  Warton,  one  of  his  critics,  re 
marks  this  difficulty: 

"To  have  been  dull  would  not  have  suited  Chatterton's  purpose,  nor 
indeed  was  it  consistent  with  his  genius.  His  aim  was  to  dazzle  and 
surprise,  by  producing  such  high-wrought  pieces  of  ancient  poetry  as 
never  before  existed.  To  secure  our  credulity,  he  should  have  pleased 
us  less.  He  has  shown  too  much  genius  and  too  little  skill.  Overact 
ing  his  part,  and  unable  or  unwilling  to  repress  his  abilities,  he  awa 
kened  our  suspicions  and  exposed  his  want  of  address  in  attempting 
to  deceive.  He  sacrificed  his  veracity  to  an  imprudent  ambition.  In 
stead  of  wondering  at  his  contrivance,  we  find  he  had  none.  A  medi 
ocrity  of  poetical  talent  would  have  succeeded  much  better  in  this  im 
posture.  He  was  too  good  a  poet  to  conduct  and  execute  such  a  forgery. 
He  conceived  that  his  old  poetry  would  be  sufficiently  marked  by 
old  words  and  old  spelling  ;  but  he  took  no  caution  about  thoughts  and 
imagery,  the  sentiment  and  the  substance.  He  had  never  forgot,  or 
never  knew,  or  was  not  inclined  to  believe,  that  the  garb  of  antiquity 
would  but  ill  become  the  elegance  of  Pope,  or  the  spirit  of  Dryden." 

This  is  not  overwrought  praise. 

Celmendi's  soliloquy  at  reaching  Bertha's  home,  and  the 
"  Mynstrelle's  Song,"  in  the  tragedy  of  JElla,  are  examples 
of  the  highest  perfection  of  art,  united  with  exquisite  sen 
sibility  to  poetic  impression.  We  cannot  omit  the  latter  : 


"  0  !  synge  untoe  mie  roundelaie, 
O!  droppe  the  brynie  teare  wythe  mee 
Daunce  ne  moe  atte  hallie  daye, 
Lycke  a  reynynge  ryver  bee  ; 
Mie  love  ys  dedde, 
Gon  to  hys  deathe-bedde, 
Al  under  the  wyllowe  tree. 


30  THOMAS  CHATTERTON.. 

ii. 

"Black  hys  cryne  as  the  wyntere  nyghte, 
Whyte  hys  rode  as  the  sommer  snowe, 
Rodde  hys  face  as  the  mornynge  lyghte, 
Gale  he  lyes  ynne  the  grave  belowe ; 
Mie  love  ys  dedde, 
Gon  to  hys  deathe-bedde, 
Al  under  the  wyllowe  tree. 

III. 

"Swote  hys  tyngue  as  the  throstle's  note, 
Quycke  ynn  daunce  as  thoughte  can  bee, 
Defte  hys  taboure,  codgelle  stote, 
0!  hee  lyes  bie  the  wyllowe  tree; 
Mie  love  ys  dedde, 
Gonne  to  hys  deathe-bedde. 
Alle  underre  the  wyllowe  tree. 

IT. 

"Harke!  the  ravenne  flappes  hys  wynge, 
In  the  briered  delle  belowe ; 
Harke !  the  death-owle  loude  dothe  synge, 
To  the  nyghte-mares  as  heie  goe; 
Mie  love  ys  dedde, 
Gonne  to  hys  deathe-bedde, 
Alle  under  the  wyllowe  tree. 

V. 

"  See  !  the  whyte  moone  sheenes  onne  hie 

Whyterre  ye  mie  true  love's  shroude  ; 

Whyterre  yanne  the  mornynge  skie; 

Whyterre  yanne  the  evenynge  cloude  ; 
Mie  love  ys  dedde, 
Gonne  to  hys  death-bedde, 
Al  under  the  wyllowe  tree. 


"Heere,  uponne  mie  true  love's  grave, 
Schalle  the  baren  fleurs  be  layde, 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  31 

Nee  one  hallie  Seyncte  to  save 
Al  the  celness  of  a  mayde. 

Mie  love  ys  dedde, 

Gonne  to  hys  deathe-bedde, 

Alle  under  the  wyllowe  tree. 

vi  I : 

"Wyth  mie  hondes  I'll  dente  the  briers 
Rounde  his  hallie  corse  to  gre, 
Ouphante  fairie,  lyghte  your  fyres, 
Heere  mie  boddie  stylle  schalle  be. 

Mie  love  ys  dedde, 

Gon  to  hys  deathe-bedde, 

Al  under  the  wyllowe  tree. 


"Comme,  wythe  acorn-coppe  and  thorne, 
Drayne  mie  hartys  blodde  awaie ; 
Lyfe  and  all  yttes  good  I  scorne, 
Daunce  bie  nete,  or  feaste  by  daie. 

Mie  love  ys  dedde, 

Gon  to  hys  deathe-bedde 

Al  under  the  wyllowe  tree. 

IX. 

"  Waterre  wytches,  crownede  wythe  reytes, 
Bere  mee  to  yer  leathalle  tyde. 
I  die!  I  comme !  mie  true  love  waytes. 
Thos  the  damsel  spake  and  dyed." 

"  The  Bristowe  Tragedie,  or  the  death  of  Sir  Charles 
Bawdin,"  is  one  of  the  earliest  of  the  Rowley  poems,  and 
the  best.  Chatterton  confessed  its  authorship  to  Barret. 
Its  subject  is  the  execution  of  a  knight,  who,  in  the  wars 
between  the  two  Roses,  was  a  zealous  Lancastrian.  We 
extract  the  following  from  the  statement  prefixed  to  the 
poem  in  the  present  edition.  It  occurs  in  the  edition  of 
Southey  and  Cottle,  and  is  possibly  the  work  of  Chat 
terton  : 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

The  person  here  celebrated,  under  the  name  of  Syr  Charles  Baw- 
Din,"  was  probably  Sir  BaldewynFulford,  Km.,  a  zealous  Lancastrian, 
who  was  executed  at  Bristol  in  the  latter  end  of  1461,  the  first  year  of 
Edward  the  Fourth,  He  was  attainted,  with  many  others,  in  the  gen 
eral  act  of  attainder,  1  Edward  IV. ;  but  he  seems  to  have  been  executed 
under  a  special  commission  for  the  trial  of  treasons,  etc.,  within  the 
town  of  Bristol.  ...  If  the  commission  sat  soon  after  the  Vth  of 
September,  as  is  most  probable,  King  Edward  might  very  possibly  be 
at  Bristol  at  the  time  of  Sir  Baldwyn's  execution  ;  for,  in  the  interval 
between  his  coronation  and  the  parliament  which  met  in  November, 
he  made  a  progress  by  the  south  coast  in  the  west,  and  was  (among 
other  places)  at  Bristol." 

We  are  only  deterred  by  its  great  length  from  giving  in 
full  this  favorable  specimen  of  the  author's  genius.  It  re 
sembles  some  of  the  fine  old  ballads  which  Percy  has  res 
cued  from  oblivion,  and,  had  it  stood  alone,  would  readily 
have  imposed  upon  a  more  astute  and  less  credulous  critic 
than  Horace  Walpole.  Campbell  aptly  remarked,  that  the 
interest  and  strength  of  the  poem  is  in  nowise  dependent 
on  the  obsolete  garb  in  which  it  appears.  It  will  bear  a 
translation  into  modern  English,  without  loss  of  any  of  the 
fire  or  force  of  the  original : 

"  The  feathered  songster  chaunticleer 

Han  wound e  hys  bugle  home, 
And  tolde  the  earlie  villager 

The  commynge  of  the  mornej 

"  Kynge  Edwarde  sawe  the  ruddie  streakes 

Of  lyghthe  eclypse  the  greie ; 
And  herde  the  raven's  crockynge  throte 

Proclayme  the  fated  daie." 

"  '  Thou'rt  righte,'  quod  hee,  'for,  by  the  Godde 

That  syttes  enthron'd  on  hyghe  ! 
Charles  Bawdin,  and  hys  feLowes  twame, 

To  daie  shall  surelie  die." 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  33 

The  king  orders  the  intelligence  to  be  communicated  by  a 
courier,  who 

"  Wythe  harte  brimfulle  of  woe," 

goes  on  his  sad  errand.  As  he  approaches  the  victim  of 
royal  vengeance,  he  discovers  him  surrounded  by  his  wife 
and  little  ones — 

"  He  journey'd  to  the  castle  gate, 
And  to  Syr  Charles  dydd  goe. 

"  But  whenne  hee  came,  hys  children  twaine, 

And  eke  hys  lovynge  wyfe, 
Wythe  brinie  tears  dydd  wett  the  floore, 

For  goode  Syr  Charleses  lyfe. 

"  '  0  goode  Syr  Charles  !'  sayd  Canterlone, 

'  Badde  ty dings  I  doe  brynge.' 
'  Speke  boldlie,  manne,'  sayd  brave  Syr  Charles, 

'  Whatte  says  thie  trayter  kynge  V 

u  '  I  greeve  to  telle,  before  yonne  sonne 

Does  fromme  the  welkin  flye, 
Hee  hath  uponne  hys  honnour  swome, 

That  thou  shall  surelie  die.'  " 

Sir  Charles  meets  the  message  firmly,  and  sends  back  the 
answer : 

"  '  Telle  thye  kynge,  for  myne  hee's  not, 

I'de  sooner  die  to-daie 
Than  lyve  hys  slave,  as  manie  are, 
'     Tho'  I  should  lyve  for  aie.' " 

While  arrangements  are  making  for  the  execution,  Mais- 
ter  Canynge  (of  whom  we  shall  have  something  more  to 
say — "a  grete  and  goode  man,  the  favoryte  of  Godde,  the 
friende  of  the  chyrche,  the  companyonne  of  Kynges  and 
the  fadre  of  hys  natyve  cittie")  seeks  the  king,  to  entreat 


34  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

on  behalf  of  the  prisoner.  Canynge  is  a  favorite  with 
Edward,  but  his  importunities  and  entreaties  are  alike 
vain : 

"  '  Lette  mercie  rule  thyne  infante  reign, 

'Twyll  faste  thy  crowne  fulle  sure ; 
From  race  to  race  thy  familie 

Alle  sov'reigns  shall  endure. 

"  'But  yff  wythe  bloode  and  slaughter  thou 

Beginne  thy  infante  reigne, 
Thy  crowne  uponne  thy  childrennes  brows 

Wylle  never  longremayne.' 

"'Canynge,  awaie  !  thys  traytour  vile 

Has  scorn'd  my  power  and  mee  ; 
How  cans't  thou  thenne  for  such  a  manne 

Intreate  my  clemencye  ?' 

"  '  Mie  nobile  liege !  the  trulie  brave 

Wylle  vaVrous  actions  prize, 
Respect  a  brave  and  nobile  mynde, 

Altho'  ynne  enemies.' 

"  '  Canynge,  awaie !     By  Godde  ynne  Heav'n 

That  dydd  mee  being  gyve, 
I  wylle  nott  taste  a  bitt  of  breade 

Whylst  thys  Syr  Charles  dothe  lyve. 

"'Bie  Marie,  and  all  Seinctes  ynne  Heav'n, 

Thys  sunne  shall  be  hys  laste  ;' 
Thenne  Canynge  dropt  a  brinie  tear, 

And  from  the  presence  paste/' 

Sir  Charles  is  the  braver  of  the  two.     We  must  extract 
quite  largely  here : 

"  'We  alle  must  die,'  quod  brave  Syr  Charles. 

'  Whatte  bootes  ytte  howe  or  whenne? 
Deathe  ys  the  sure,  the  certaine  fate 

Of  all  wee  mortall  menne. 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  35 

"  '  Saye,  why,  my  friend,  thie  honest  soul 

Runns  over  att  thyne  eye  ; 
Is  ytt  for  my  most  welcome  doome 

Thatt  thou  doste  child-lyke  crye  ?' 

"  Quod  godlie  Canynge,  '  I  doe  weepe 

Thatt  thou  soe  soone  must  dye, 
And  leave  thy  sonnes  and  helpless  wyfe  ; 

'Tys  thys  thatt  wettes  myne  eye.' 

' '  Thenne  drye  the  teares  thatt  out  thyne  eye 

From  godlie  fountaines  sprynge  ; 
Dethe  I  despise,  and  all  the  power 

Of  Edwarde,  traytor  kynge. 

"  '  Whan  through  the  tyrant's  welcome  means 

I  shall  resign  my  lyfe, 
The  Godde  I  serve  wyll  soone  provyde 

For  bothe  mye  sonnes  and  wyfe. 

''  *  Before  t  sawe  the  lyghtsome  sunne, 

Thys  was  appointed  mee  ; 
Shall  mortal  manne  repyne  or  grudge 

Whatt  Godde  ordeynes  to  bee  "? 

"  '  Howe  oft  ynne  battaile  have  I  stoode 

Whan  thousands  dy'darounde  ; 
Whan  smokynge  streemes  of  crimson  bloode 

Imbrew'd  the  fatten'd  grounde. 

"  '  Howe  dydd  I  knowe  thatt  ev'ry  darte 

That  cutt  the  airie  waie, 
Myght  nott  fynde  passage  to  my  harte, 

And  close  myne  eyes  for  aie? 

"  '  And  shall  I  nowe,  for  feere  of  dethe, 

Looke  wanne  and  bee  dismayde? 
Ne !  frornme  my  herte  flie  childyshe  feere, 

Bee  all  the  manne  display'd. 

"  '  Ah  !  goddelyke  Henrie  !  Godde  forefende, 

And  guarde  thee  and  thye  sonne, 
YfF  'tis  hys  wylle  ;  but  yff  'tis  not, 

Why  thenne  hys  wylle  bee  donne. 


36  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

"  'My  honest  friende,  my  faulte  has  beene 
To  serve  Godde  and  mye  prynce  5 

And  thatt  I  no  tyme-server  am, 
My  dethe  wylle  soone  convynee. 

' '  Ynne  Londonne  citye  was  I  borne, 

Of  parents  of  grete  note ; 

My  fadre  dydd  a  nobile  arms 

Emblazon  onne  hys  cote. 

"  '  I  make  no  double  butt  hee  ys  gone 

Where  soone  I  hope  to  goe ; 
Where  wee  for  ever  shall  be  blest, 

From  oute  the  reech  of  woe ; 

"  'Hee  taughte  mee  justice  and  the  laws 

Wyth  pitie  to  unite; 
And  eke  hee  taughte  mee  how  to  knowe 

The  wronge  cause  fromme  the  ryghte : 

"  '  He  taughte  mee  wythe  a  prudente  hande 
To  feede  the  hungrie  poore, 

Ne  lette  mye  servants  dryve  awaie 
The  hungrie  fromme  my  doore : 

"  'And  none  can  saye  butt  alle  mye  lyfe 

I  have  hys  wordyes  kept ; 
And  summ'd  the  actyonns  of  the  daie 

Eche  nyghte  before  I  slept. 

"  '  I  have  a  spouse,  goe  aske  of  her, 

Yff  I  defyl'd  her  bedde; 
I  have  a  kynge,  and  none  can  laie 

Blacke  treason  onne  my  hedde. 

"  '  Ynne  Lent,  and  onne  the  holie  eve, 
Fromme  fleshe  I  dydd  refrayne  ; 

Whie  should  I  thenne  appeare  dismayed 
To  leave  thys  worlde  of  payne? 

"  '  Ne  !  hapless  Henrie!  I  rejoyce 

I  shall  nee  see  thye  dethe  ; 
Most  willynglie  ynne  thye  just  cause 

Doe  I  resign  my  brethe. 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  37 

"  '  0  fickle  people!  rewyn'd  loncle  ! 

Thou  wilt  kenne  peace  ne  moe  ; 
Whyle  Richard's  sonnes  exalt  themselves, 

Thye  brookes  with  bloude  wylle  flowe. 

"  '  Saie,  were  ye  tyr'd  of  godlie  peace 

And  godlie  Henrie's  reigne, 
That  you  dydd  choppe  youre  easie  daies 

For  those  of  blonde  and  peyne  1 

"  'Whatte  tho'  I  onne  a  sledde  bee  drawne. 

And  mangled  by  a  hynde, 
I  doe  defye  the  traytor's  pow'r, 

He  can  ne  harm  my  mynde  ; 

'' '  Whatte  tho'  '  uphoisted  onne  a  pole 

Mye  lymbes  shall  rotte  ynne  ayre, 
And  ne  riche  monument  of  brasse 

Charles  Bawdin's  name  shall  bear; 

"  '  Yett  ynne  the  holie  booke  above 

Whyche  tyme  can't  eate  awaie, 
There  wythe  the  servants  of  the  Lorde 

Mye  name  shall  lyve  for  aie. 

"  'Thenne  welcome  dethe  !  for  lyfe  eterne 

I  leave  thys  mortall  lyfe, 
Farewell,  vayne  worlde,  and  alle  that's  deare, 

Mye  sonnes  and  lovynge  wyfe  ! 

"  'Nowe  dethe  as  welcome  to  mee  comes 

As  e'er  the  moneth  of  Maie; 
Nor  woulde  I  even  wyshe  to  lyve, 

Wyth  my  dere  wyfe  to  staie.' 

"  Quod  Canynge,  '  'Tys  a  goodlie  thynge 

To  bee  prepar'd  to  die  ; 
And  from  thys  world  of  peyne  and  grefe 

To  Godcle  ynne  Heav'nto  flie.'  " 

The  meeting    of   the  mfe,   and  the  separation,  just  be 
fore  the  final  scene,  are  most  touchingly  described.     It 


38  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

lacks  but  one  thing  to  make  the  picture  complete— the 
children  are  not  there  to  take  the  final  parting : 

"  And  now  the  bell  beganne  to  tolle, 

And  claryonnes  to  sounde  ; 
Syr  Charles  hee  herde  the  horses'  feete 

A  prauncing  onne  the  grounde  ; 

"  And  just  before  the  officers 

His  lovynge  wyfe  came  ynne, 
Weepynge  unfeigned  teeres  of  woe, 

Wythe  loude  and  dysmalle  dynne. 

"  '  Sweet  Florence  !  nowe  I  praie  forbere, 

Ynne  quiet  lett  mee  die  ; 
Praie  Godde,  thatt  ev'ry  Christian  soule 

May  looke  onne  dethe  as  I. 

"  '  Sweet  Florence !  why  these  brinie  teares  * 

They  washe  my  soul  awaie, 
And  almost  make  mee  wyshe  for  lyfe, 

Wythe  thee,  sweete  dame,  to  staie. 

"  '  'Tys  butt  a  journie  I  shalle  goe 

Untoe  the  lande  of  blysse  : 
Nowe,  as  a  proofe  of  husbande's  love, 

Receive  thys  holie  kysse.' 

"  Thenne  Florence,  fault'ring  in  her  saie, 

Tremblynge  these  wordyes  spoke, 
"  Ah,  cruele  Edwarde  !  bloudie  kynge  ! 

My  herte  ys  welle  nyghe  broke: 

"  'Ah,  sweete  Syr  Charles!  why  wylt thou  goe, 

Wythoute  thye  lovynge  wyfe  ! 
The  cruelle  axe  that  cuttes  thy  necke, 

Ytte  eke  shall  ende  mye  lyfe.' 

"And  nowe  the  officers  came  ynne 

To  brynge  Syr  Charles  awaie, 
Whoe  turnedd  to  hys  lovynge  wyfe, 
And  thus  to  her  dydd  saie  : 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  39 

"  '  I  goe  to  lyfe,  and  nott  to  dethe  ; 

Truste  thou  ynne  Godde  above, 
And  teache  thy  sonnes  to  feare  the  Lorde, 

And  ynne  theyre  hartes  hym  love ; 

"  '  Teache  them  to  runne  the  nobile  race 

Thatt  I  theyre  fader  runne : 
Florence!  shou'd  dethe  thee  take — adieu, 

Yee  officers,  lead  onne.' 

"  Then  Florence  rav'd  as  anie  madde, 

And  dydd  her  tresses  tere  ; 
'Oh!  stale,  mye  husbande  !  lorde  !  and  lyfe  !' 

Sir  Charles  thenne  dropt  a  teare." 

It  was  a  brave  man's  weeping — not  for  himself,  but  for 
the  strength  of  affection — and  did  not  arise  save  from 
weakness  of  manhood !  The  march  through  the  streets  of 
Bristol  is  then  described.  Edward  has  taken  a  position  to 
witness  the  caravan  of  death.  As  the  unhappy  prisoner 
nears  the  place  in  which  the  king  sits,  he  rises  up  from  his 
seat  to  utter  an  earnest  and  bitter  invective  against  the 
tyrant  murderer.  The  passage  has  excited  the  admiration 
of  more  than  one  critic  :  admiration  deepened  doubtless  by 
the  fact  that  it  was  the  creation  of  a  boy's  brain,  but  not  the 
less  sure  and  steady  and  firm.  It  is  one  of  the  manly 
productions  of  Chatterton's  genius  which  will  never  die : 

"  Uponne  a  sledde  hee  mounted  thenne, 
Wythe  lookes  full  brave  and  sweete  ; 
Lookes,  that  enshone  ne  more  concern 
Thanne  anie  ynne  the  strete. 

"Before  hym  went  the  council-menne, 

Ynne  Scarlett  robes  and  golde, 
And  tassils  spanglynge  ynne  the  sunne, 

Muche  glorious  to  beholde  : 


40  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

"  The  Freers  of  Seincte  Augustine  next 

Appeared  to  the  syght, 
Alle  cladde  ynn  homelie  xussett  weedes 

Of  godlie  monkish  plyghte  ; 

"  Ynne  difFraunt  partes  a  godly  psaume 
Most  sweetly  theye  dydd  chaunte  ; 

Behynde  theyre  backes  syx  mynstrelles  came  ; 
Who  tuned  the  strunge  bataunt. 

"  Thenne  fyve  and  twentye  archers  came  ; 

Echone  the  bowe  dydd  bende, 
From  rescue  of  Kynge  Henrie's  friends 

Syr  Charles  forr  to  defend. 

"  Bold  as  a  lyon  came  Syr  Charles, 
Drawn  onne  a  clothe-layde  sledde, 

Bye  two  black  stedes  ynne  trappynges  white, 
Wythe  plumes  uporme  theyre  hedde : 

"  Behynde  hym  fyve-and-twentye  moe 
Of  archers  stronge  and  stoute, 

Wythe  bended  bowe  echone  ynne  hande, 
Marched  ynne  goodlie  route  : 

"  Seincte  Jameses  Freers  marched  next, 
Echone  hys  parte  dydd  chaunt ; 

Behynde  theyre  backes  syx  mynstrelles  came, 
Who  tuned  the  strunge  bataunt. 

"Thenne  came  the  maior  and  eldermenne, 
Ynne  clothe  of  scarlet  deck't ; 

And  theyre  attendyng  menne  echone, 
Lyke  Easterne  princes  trickt. 

"And  after  them,  a  multitude 

Of  citizens  dydd  thronge  5 
The  wyndowes  were  all  fulle  of  heddes, 

As  hee  did  passe  alonge. 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  41 

"And  whenne  hee  came  to  the  hyghe  crosse, 

Syr  Charles  dydd  turnc  and  saie, 
'  0  Thou  that  savest  manne  fromme  synne, 
Washe  mye  soul  clean  thys  dale  !' 

"At  the  grate  mynsterr  wyndowe  sat 

The  Kynge  ynne  myckle  state, 
To  see  Charles  Bawdin  goe  alonge 
To  hys  most  welcom  fate. 

"  Soone  as  the  sledde  drewe  nyghe  enowe, 

That  Edwarde  hee  myghte  heare, 
The  brave  Syr  Charles  hee  dydd  stande  uppe, 

And  thus  hys  wordes  declare  : 

"  '  Thou  seest  mee,  Edwarde  !  traytour  vile  ! 

Expos'd  to  infamie  ; 
Butt  bee  assur'd,  disloyall  manne  ! 

I'm  greater  now  than  thee. 

"  '  Bye  foule  proceedyngs,  murdre,  bloude, 

Thou  wearest  nowe  a  crowne  ; 
And  hast  appoynted  mee  to  dye, 

By  power nott  thyne  owne. 

"  '  Thou  thynkest  I  shall  dye  to-daie  ; 

I  have  beene  dede  till  nowe, 
And  soone  shall  lyve  to  weare  a  crowne 

For  aie  uponne  my  browe  : 

"  '  Whylst  thou,  perhapps,  for  some  few  yeares, 

Shalt  rule  thys  fickle  lande, 
To  lett  them  knowe  howe  wyde  the  rule 

'Twixt  kynge  and  tyrant  hand. 

" '  Thye  pow'r  unjust,  thou  traytour  slave ! 

Shall  falle  onne  thye  owne  hedde.' 
Fromme  out  of  hearyng  of  the  Kynge 

Departed  thenne  the  sledde. 

"Kynge  Edwarde's  soul  rushed  to  hys  face, 

Hee  turn'd  hys  hedde  awaie, 
And  to  hys  broder  Glocester 

He  thus  did  speke  and  saie  ; 


42  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

"  ;  To  hym  that  soe-much-dreaded  dethe 

No  ghastly  terrors  brynge  ; 
Beholde  the  manne  !  hee  spake  the  truthe, 
Hee's  greater  thanne  a  Kynge  !'  " 

Shall  we  attribute  the  noble  sentiment  with  which  this 
passage  closes  to  the  study  of  the  black-letter  Bible,  the 
first  companion  to  the  poet's  genius  ?  The  scene  at  the 
scaffold  is  as  vividly  described : 

"  And  nowe  the  horses  gentlie  drawe 

Syr  Charles  uppe  the  hyghe  hylle ; 
The  axe  dydd  glysterr  ynne  the  sunne, 

Hys  pretious  bloude  to  spylle. 

"  Syr  Charles  dydd  uppe  the  scaffold  goe, 

As  uppe  a  gilded  care 
Of  victorye,  bye  val'rous  chiefs 

Gayn'd  ynne  the  bloudie  warre ; 

"  And  to  the  people  hee  dydd  saie, 

'  Behold  you  see  mee  dye, 
For  servynge  loyally  my  kynge, 

My  kynge  most  rightfullic. 

"  '  As  long  as  Edward  e  rules  thys  lande, 

No  quiet  you  wille  knowe  ; 
Youre  sonnes  and  husbandes  shalle  bee  slayne, 

And  brookes  wythe  bloude  shalle  flowe. 

"  'You  leave  youre  goode  and  lawfulle  kynge, 

Whenne  ynne  adversitye ; 
Lyke  mee,  unto  the  true  cause  stycke. 

And  for  the  true  cause  dye.' 

"  Thenne  hee,  wyth  preestes,  upon  hys  knees, 

A  pray'r  to  Godde  dydd  make, 
Beeseeching  hym  unto  hymselfe 

Hys  partynge  soule  to  take. 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

"  Thenne,  kneelynge  downe,  hee  layd  hys  hedde 

Most  seemlie  onne  the  blocke  ; 
Which  fronime  hys  bodie  fayre  at  once 

The  able  heddes-manne  stroke  ; 

"  And  oute  the  bloude  beganne  to  flowe, 

And  rounde  the  scafFolde  twine  ; 
And  teares,  enow  to  washe't  awaie, 

Dydd  flow  fromme  each  manne's  eyne. 

u  The  bloudie  axe  hys  bodie  fayre 

Yunto  foure  parties  cutte  ; 
And  ev'rye  parte,  and  eke  hys  hedde, 

Uponne  a  pole  was  putte. 

"  One  part  dydd  rotte  onne  Kynwulph-hylle, 

One  onne  the  mynster-tower, 
And  one  from  off  the  castle-gate 

The  crowen  dydd  devoure  ; 

''The  other  onne  Seyncte  Powle's  good  gate; 

A  dreery  spectacle ; 
Hys  hedde  was  plac'd  onne  the  hyghe  crosse, 

Ynne  hyghe-streete  most  nobile. 

"  Thus  was  the  ende  of  Bawdin's  fate  ; 

Godcle  prosper  longe  oure  Kynge, 
And  grante  hee  maye,  wyth  Bawdin's  soule, 

Ynne  heav'n  Godd's  mercie  syngge  !" 

We  confess  we  fear  to  trust  ourself  to  speak  of  this  bal 
lad  in  terms  sufficiently  commendatory.  We  have  no  pa 
tience  with  the  cold  and  superficial  criticism  which  could, 
after  reading  such  a  poem,  stop  to  scan  and  search  out  its 
merely  verbal  defects.  The  spirit  of  the  times  of  which  it 
writes,  and  when  it  purports  to  be  written,  is  breathed 
anew.  Were  worthy  Thomas  Rowley's  name  linked  with 
no  other  effort  of  his  muse,  this  alone  would  prove  an  im 
perishable  monument.  In  his  storie  of  Wm.  Canynge, 


44  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

Rowley  says :  "I  gave  Master  Cannings  my  Bristow  tra 
gedy,  for  which  he  gave  me  in  hands  twentie  pounds,  and 
did  praise  it  more  than  I  did  think  myself  did  deserve,  for 
I  can  say  in  troth  I  was  never  proud  of  my  verses  since  I 
did  read  master  Chaucer?"  The  "chief  poete  of  Bri- 
taine"  would  not  have  disowned  them.  Chatterton  wrote 
this  poem  before  the  latter  and  evil  days  of  his  life, 
and  while  the  sweet  and  holy  charities  of  a  home,  with  a 
mother's  love  and  a  sister's  tenderness,  were  about  him. 
It  is  the  echo  of  his  truer  and  better  nature — not  the  utter 
ance  of  the  wild  wantonness  of  dissipated  boyhood,  nor 
yet  the  fruits  of  the  bitterness  of  toil,  after  the  sterner 
and  bolder  grasping  of  the  unattainable  and  the  lofty  had 
soured  his  genius. 

The  Bristowe  tragedy  was  one  of  the  poems  which  he 
committed  to  the  keeping  of  Mr.  Catcott.  He  afterwards 
produced  the  tragedy  of  2Ella.  We  do  not  hear  of  its 
existence  until  towards  the  end  of  1768,  when  he  opens  a 
correspondence  with  Dodsley,  in  which  he  states  that  he 
has  "  an  interlude,  perhaps  the  oldest  dramatic  piece  ex 
tant,  wrote  by  one  Rowley,  a  priest,  in  Bristol,  who  lived 
in  the  reigns  of  Henry  Vlth  and  Edward  the  IVth."  The 
next  year,  he  begins  his  attack  upon  the  credulity  of  Wai- 
pole,  by  a  complimentary  note,  accompanied  with  an  ac 
count  of  "  THE  RYSE  or  PEYNCTEYNGE  IN  ENGLANDE, 

WROTEN    BY  T.    ROWLIE,  1469,   FOR    MASTRE    CANYNGE." 

This  account  he  annotates  himself,  and  begs  Walpole  to 
correct  the  mistakes  (if  any)  in  the  notes  !  The  account  he 
supposes  will  be  of  service  in  some  future  edition  of  his 
lordship's  truly  entertaining  anecdotes  of  painting !  The 
trap  was  well  set,  and  came  near  catching  the  prey.  Wai- 
pole's  reply  was  respectful,  courteous,  and  polite ;  just  like 
the  production  of  a  man  obliged  by  a  favor  from  an  unex- 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  45 

pected  quarter,  and  who  doubts  not  for  a  moment  his  in 
debtedness.  When  the  world  began  to  laugh  at  the  anti 
quarian,  he  assumed  a  different  air ;  but  no  one  could  read 
this  letter  without  the  conviction  that  its  author  was  in 
sober  earnest,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  believe  in  the  authen 
ticity  of  the  materials  furnished  him.  A  second  letter 
was  not  so  successful.  Chatterton  did  not  know  the  char 
acter  of  his  correspondent.  He  began  to  prate  of  pov 
erty,  and  complained  of  the  humble  sphere  in  which  he 
was  condemned  to  move  !  Presto  !  the  conduct  of  the 
peer  was  sadly  changed  !  Walpole  was  a  cold,  artificial, 
and  polished  man  of  letters — a  nobleman,  and  therefore 
cold  and  haughty,  an  antiquarian  and  man  of  letters,  and 
therefore  polished.  His  reply  to  the  letter  of  Chatterton 
doubtless  partook  largely  of  these  qualities.  The  reply  is 
lost,  and  only  a  fragment  of  Chatterton's  letter  remains. 
Subsequently  to  Chatterton's  death,  Walpole  relates  the 
affair,  and  judging  from  the  specimen  of  charity  it  fur 
nishes,  the  professed  antiquarian  was  severely  stung  by  the 
recollection  of  the  part  he  had  played  in  the  transaction. 
We  may,  pardon,  however,  the  bitterness  of  the  language, 
when  we  remember  that  about  the  time  of  this  letter  public 
attention  had  been  drawn  to  the  unhappy  fate  of  the  won 
derful  Chatterton,  and  Walpole  was  reproved  and  sharply 
rebuked  for  not  having  extended  to  him  his  protection  and 
interest. 


l;  I  should  have  been,  (says  Walpole,)  I  should  have  been  blameable 
to  his  mother  and  society,  if  I  had  seduced  an  apprentice  from  his  mas 
ter  to  marry  him  to  the  nine  muses;  and  I  should  have  encouraged  a 
propensity  to  forgery,  which  is  not  the  talent  most  wanting  culture  in 
the  present  age.  Jill  of  the  house  of  forgery  are  relations  ;  and  though  it 
is  just  to  Chatterton's  memory  to  say,  that  his  poverty  never  made  him 
claim  kindred  with  the  richest  or  more  enriching  branches,  yet  his  in- 


46  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

genuity  in  counterfeiting  styles,  and,  I  believe,  hands,  might  easily  have 
led  him  to  those  more  facile  imitations  of  prose,  promissory  notes." 

This  from  the  author  of  the  "Castle  of  Otranto" — a 
book  stated  by  its  writer  to  have  been  discovered  in  some 
ancient  library,  and  printed  in  1529  at  Naples,  when  in 
fact  it  was  the  handiwork  of  Horace  Walpole,  and  pub 
lished  in  the  eighteenth  century — is  something  marvellous. 
No  wonder  that  Coleridge,  in  citing  this  passage  in  the  no 
bleman's  history,  with  the  foregoing  severe  stricture  on  the 
boy-genius,  exclaimed  against  the  outrage.  A  letter  of 
Walpole  to  Hannah  More  in  1789,  immediately  after  the 
publication  of  Barret's  History  of  Bristol,  justly  provokes 
the  indignation  of  the  present  biographer. 

Chatterton,  in  his  Last  Will  and  Testament,  alludes  to 
poems  of  a  religious  cast  which  he  had  produced,  simply 
designing  to  show  "that  a  great  genius  can  effect  any 
thing."  There  are  but  two  or  three  of  his  acknowledged 
poems  extant  which  may  be  regarded  as  of  a  religious  type, 
and  to  neither  of  these  can  we  refer  the  allusion.  The 
man  who  wrote  "Resignation,"  and  "A  Hymn  for  Christ 
mas  Day,"  was  in  earnest.  They  are  both  excellent  after 
their  kind,  and  give  some  token  of  "a  light  from  heaven 
breaking  through  the  darkness  of  the  soul."  The  former 
of  these  poems  has  already  called  forth  from  a  kindred 
poet  verses  of  exquisite  tenderness  and  beauty.* 

THE    RESIGNATION. 

"  O  God,  whose  thunder  shakes  the  sky, 

Whose  eye  this  atom-globe  surveys, 
To  thee,  my  only  rock,  I  fly, 

Thy  mercy  in  thy  justice  praise. 

"The  mystic  mazes  of  thy  will, 
The  shadows  of  celestial  light, 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  47 

Are  past  the  power  of  human  skill. — 
But  what  th'  Eternal  acts  is  right. 

"  0  teach  me  in  the  trying  hour, 

When  anguish  swells  the  dewy  tear, 
To  still  my  sorrows,  own  thy  power, 

Thy  goodness  love,  thy  justice  fear. 

"  If  in  this  bosom  aught  but  Thee 

Encroaching  sought  a  boundless  sway, 

Omniscience  could  the  danger  see, 
And  Mercy  look  the  cause  away, 

"Then  why,  my  soul,  dost  them  complain? 

Why,  drooping,  seek  the  dark  recess  ? 
Shake  off  the  melancholy  chain, 

For  God  created  all  to  bless. 

"  But  ah  !  my  breast  is  human  still ; 

The  rising  sigh,  the  falling  tear, 
My  languid  vitals'  feeble  rill, 

The  sickness  of  my  soul  declare. 

"But yet,  with  fortitude  resigned, 

I'll  thank  th'  inflicter  of  the  blow ; 
Forbid  the  sigh,  compose  my  mind, 

Nor  let  the  gush  of  mis'ry  flow. 

"  The  gloomy  mantle  of  the  night, 

Which  on  my  sinking  spirit  steals. 
Will  vanish  at  the  morning  light, 

Which  God,  my  East,  My  Sun,  reveals." 

Among  his  acknowledged  poems,  the  African  Eclogue 
and  the  Elegy  on  Phillips  have  gratified  us  the  most. 
There  is  a  piece  of  passionate  and  pathetic  painting  in 
"The  Death  of  Nicou,"  worthy  of  the  genius  of  Byron : 

"  Pining  with  sorrow,  Nica  faded,  died, 
Like  a  fair  aloe,  in  its  morning  pride.'' 


48  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

The  African  Eclogues  were  written  in  London  in  the 
darkest  period  of  his  history,  just  before  the  perpetration 
of  the  closing  act  of  his  life. 

From  the  time  Chatterton  left  his  home  at  Bristol,  and 
the  office  of  Leonard,  his  life  was  a  whirlpool  of  commo 
tion  and  agony.  His  fate  is  not  unlike  that  of  the  gifted 
Burns.  The  contrast  is  in  Burns's  favor.  Burns,  though 
he  died  in  penury,  was  an  object  of  admiration,  and  at 
times  the  pet,  of  the  great  ones  in  his  own  age.  His  poems 
met  with  immediate  applause,  and,  for  his  day,  were  in  a 
remarkable  degree  remunerative.  If  he  fell  into  neglect, 
to  himself  must  he  attribute  the  suddenness  of  his  fall. 
But  "  alas  !  poor  Chatterton !"  With  the  thirstings  for  a 
fame  which  his  Heaven-bestowed  genius  entitled  him  to 
claim,  he  is  restless  and  ill  at  ease,  and  chafes  under  the 
drudgery  and  prosaic  duties  of  an  attorney's  office,  long 
ing  to  be  master  of  his  own  time,  to  roam  at  will  over  the 
fields  of  literature  and  science,  and  to  reap  a  harvest  of 
imperishable  renown  !  With  high  hopes  and  a  proud  heart, 
he  abandons  the  quiet  of  Bristol  and  the  engrossing  of  in 
dentures,  to  play  his  part  in  the  metropolis.  Mr.  Thist- 
lethwaite,  a  contemporary  of  Chatterton,  and  not  altogether 
free  from  jealousy  of  his  superior  abilities,  has  given  in  a 
letter  the  views  with  which  Chatterton  tried  his  fortunes  at 
London.  Thislethwaite's  credit  is  not  beyond  suspicion, 
and  were  there  nothing  in  Chatterton's  history  to  support 
his  testimony,  it  might  be  discarded ;  but,  unfortunately, 
in  the  latter  years  of  Chatterton,  he  had  contracted 
infidel  views,  and  spake  and  wrote  of  religion  and  reli 
gious  emotions  with  the  levity  of  an  established  "  philoso 
pher."  Thislethwaite  tells  us  that  on  inquiring  of  Chat 
terton  what  he  expected  to  do  at  London,  he  replied  :  "  My 
first  attempt  shall  be  in  the  literary  way.  The  promises 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  49 

I  have  received  are  sufficient  to  dispel  doubt ;  but  should 
I,  contrary  to  my  expectations,  find  myself  deceived,  I  will 
in  that  case  turn  Methodist  preacher  :  credulity  is  as  potent 
a  deity  as  ever,  and  a  new  sect  may  easily  be  devised.  But 
if  that  too  shall  fail  me,  my  last  and  final  resource  is  a 
pistol."  Construe  this  language  as  we  may,  it  betrays  a 
great  laxity  of  principle ;  and  if  not  the  mere  babbling  of 
the  boy,  without  thought,  on  a  topic  which  one  would  sup 
pose  had  interested  and  excited  him,  is  deserving  of  un 
mixed  censure.  This  is  but  one  of  many  references  made  by 
him  to  the  subject  of  suicide.  It  seemed  to  have  been  a 
familiar  topic  of  his  thought  and  conversation,  and  fre 
quently  occurs  in  his  writings.  It  probably  grew  up  at 
the  time  of  his  having  imbibed  infidel  principles. 

We  are  furnished,  in  a  letter  to  his  mother,  with  a  brief 
reference  to  this  trip  to  London.  It  rings  with  boyish 
delight,  and  is  redolent  of  cheerfulness  and  hope,  and  a 
bright  future.  Every  thing  goes  merrily  as  a  marriage 
bell.  How  soon  is  the  hope  to  be  withered  and  blasted  ! 

Two  weeks  afterwards  he  again  writes,  and  still  his  good 
star  is  in  the  ascendant :  "  I  am  settled,  and  in  such  a  set 
tlement  as  I  would  desire.  I  get  four  guineas  a  month  by 
one  magazine ;  shall  engage  to  write  a  History  of  Eng 
land,  and  other  pieces,  which  will  more  than  double  that 
sum.  Occasional  essays  for  the  daily  papers  will  more 
than  support  me."  "  What  a  glorious  prospect !"  he  ex 
claims.  Wilkes  knew  him  by  his  writings ;  he  had  an  in 
troduction  to  Townsend  and  Sawbridge,  and  was  quite 
familiar  at  the  Chapter  CoiFee-house  ! 

"  A  character  was  unnecessary — an  author  carries  his 
character  in  his  pen,"  said  he;  and,  in  the  same  breath, 
he  declares  the  vast  superiority  of  London  to  Bristol :  "  In 
Bristol  I  was  out  of  my  element — now  I  am  in  it."  His 


50  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

knowledge  and  skill  in  the  art  of  managing  booksellers  had 
run  beyond  his  experience :  "  No  author  can  be  poor  who 
understands  the  arts  of  booksellers.  Without  this  neces 
sary  knowledge,  the  greatest  genius  may  starve ;  and  with 
it,  the  greatest  dunce  live  in  splendor.  This  knowledge  I 
have  pretty  well  dipped  into."  This  sounds  somewhat 
strangely  from  a  youth  on  his  first  trip  to  London, 
who  had  not  lived  there  quite  three  weeks !  We  should 
note  such  precocious  perspicacity  as  truly  remarkable,  if 
the  sequel  had  confirmed  his  confident  declaration.  The 
"art  and  mystery"  of  booksellers  is,  we  fear,  a  sealed 
volume,  and  will  ever  remain  such  to  the  hungry  race  of 
authors.  If  history  speaks  truly,  they  have  usually  se 
cured  the  lion's  share  in  every  division  of  spoils. 

The  next  post  from  London — probably  the  next  post-- 
carried  a  letter  which  begins — 

KING'S  BENCH,  for  the  present,  May  14,  1770. 

"  Don't  be  surprised  at  the  name  of  the  place.  I  am  not  here  as  a 
prisoner.  Matters  go  on  swimmingly.  Mr.  Fell  having  offended  certain 
persons,  they  have  set  his  creditors  upon  him,  and  he  is  safe  in  the 
King's  Bench.  I  have  been  bettered  by  the  accident;  his  successors 
in  the  Freeholder's  Magazine  knowing  nothing  of  the  matter,  will  be 
glad  lo  engage  me  on  my  own  terms !" 

The  maxims  of  Rochefoucault  could  find  here  an  apt 
illustration. 

In  mitigation  of  the  indiscretion  of  the  boy — if  it  be 
indiscreet  thus  to  speak  out  to  a  mother  the  real  feelings 
he  cherished — it  must  be  remembered  that  his  London 
life  was  a  struggle  for  very  existence ;  and  as  his  pros 
pect  brightened,  need  we  wonder  that  the  misfortunes 
of  a  comparative  stranger  were  overlooked  in  the  hope  that 
nerved  anew  his  arm,  and  inspired  the  wish  of  further  at- 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  51 

tainments  and  usefulness ;  that,  in  the  excitement  of  the 
moment,  just  discovering  spread  out  before  him  a  pano 
rama  of  noble  effort,  and  a  splendid  career,  he  forgets  the 
higher  and  nobler  principle  of  love  to  his  neighbor  !  The 
world  does  not  so  regulate  its  conduct,  that  it  may,  without 
passing  judgment  upon  itself,  condemn  the  boyish  ardor 
and  hectic  gayety  of  this  letter.  Yet  is  this  feature  want 
ing  to  perfect  the  character  of  Chatterton,  and  to  make 
him  a  model  of  morals,  as  he  was  a  miracle  of  mind.  Chat 
terton  now  contracts  an  acquaintance  with  a  young  gen 
tleman  in  Cheapside,  partner  in  a  music  shop,  "  the  great 
est  in  the  city."  Chatterton  writes  a  few  songs  for  him. 
They  are  exhibited  to  a  doctor  in  music,  and  the  poet  is 
invited  to  treat  with  him  on  the  footing  of  a  composer  for 
Ranelagh  and  the  Gardens.  This  is  not  all  the  good  news 
his  letter  communicates.  He  is  likely  to  have  been  en 
gaged  as  companion  to  the  young  Duke  of  Northumber 
land  in  his  tour  ;  but  he  speaks  but  one  tongue,  and  this  is 
an  insurmountable  barrier.  While  in  London,  Chatterton 
enjoyed  favorable  opportunities  for  making  an  impression ; 
but  the  place  was  expensive.  He  is  obliged,  by  his  pro 
fession,  to  frequent  places  of  the  best  resort,  and  to  dress 
fashionably.  This  is  the  use  he  makes  of  his  means  ;  but 
he  will  retrench.  He  wished  cheaper  lodgings.  Indeed, 
a  Scotch  gentleman,  a  brother  of  a  lord,  who  wished  to 
embark  pretty  deeply  into  the  bookselling  branches,  had 
offered  him  lodging  and  boarding,  genteel  and  elegant, 
gratis.  He  promises  his  sister  two  silks  that  summer. 
And  the  beginning  of  the  next  winter  he  will  be  writing 
the  voluminous  History  of  London ;  and  as  that  will  not 
"  oblige  me  to  go  to  the  coffee-house,  I  will  be  able  to  serve 
you  the  more  by  it."  "If  money,"  he  adds,  "flowed  as 
fast  upon  me  as  honors,  I  would  give  you  a  portion  of 


52  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

X5000."  The  spirit  breathing  through  this  entire  letter  is 
hopeful.  He  is  on  terms  of  friendship  with  the  Lord  Mayor — 
could  obtain  from  him  a  recommendation  to  an  East  India  di 
rector  for  an  office  of  honor ;  but  prefers  staying  on  land 
to  trying  his  fortunes  on  the  sea.  Thistlethwaite  speaks  of 
Chatterton  as  indulging  in  medical  readings  during  his  stay 
in  Bristol.  This  letter  gives  some  evidence  of  his  studies 
in  that  direction.  He  prescribes  for  one  of  his  Bristol  ac 
quaintance,  (a  lady ;)  lectures  on  the  sunlight  and  its  pre 
judicial  effect  upon  the  eyes,  and  advises,  as  one  of  his 
chief  medicatives,  that  she  meet  with  no  contradiction ! 

In  the  letter  to  his  sister  in  which  he  thus  figures  as  an 
Esculapius,  he  gives  us  a  picture  of  his  London  life,  quite 
natural  and  lifelike.  We  must  content  ourselves  with  but 
one  or  two  extracts  : 

"Essay-writings  has  this  advantage:  you  are  sure  of  constant  pay; 
and  when  you  have  once  wrote  a  piece  which  makes  the  author  in 
quired  after,  you  may  bring  the  booksellers  to  your  own  terms.  Essays 
on  the  patriotic  side  fetch  no  more  than  what  the  copy  is  sold  for.  As 
the  patriots  themselves  are  searching  for  a  place  they  have  no  gratui 
ties  to  spare.  .  .  .  On  the  other  hand,  unpopular  essays  will  not 
even  be  accepted  ;  and  you  must  pay  to  have  them  printed.  But  then 
you  seldom  lose  by  it.  Courtiers  are  so  sensible  of  their  deficiency  in 
merit  that  they  generally  reward  all  who  know  how  to  daub  them  with 
an  appearance  of  it." 

In  another  portion  of  the  same  letter  he  writes : 

"  Having  addressed  an  essay  to  his  lordship,  (the  mayor,)  it  was  very 
well  received — perhaps  better  than  it  deserved;  and  I  waited  on  his 
lordship  to  have  his  approbation  to  address  a  second  letter  to  him,  on 
the  subject  of  the  remonstrance,  and  its  reception.  His  lordship  re 
ceived  me  as  politely  as  a  citizen  could,  and  warmly  invited  me  to  call 
on  him  again.  The  rest  is  a  secret.  But  the  devil  of  the  matter  is, 
there  is  no  money  to  be  got  on  this  side  of  the  question.  Interest  is  on 
the  other  side.  But  he  is  a  poor  author  who  cannot  write  on  both 
sides." 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  53 

This  is  Chatterton's  account  of  an  affair  which  in  no  wise 
redounds  to  his  credit.  This  passage  in  Chatterton's  career 
has  been  made  the  occasion  of  severe  censure,  and,  we  are 
compelled  to  acknowledge,  not  without  reason. 

The  facts  were  these  :  When  Chatterton  reacned  London, 
parties  were  engaged  in  earnest  conflict  about  the  Middle 
sex  election.  He  instantly  contracted  an  acquaintance 
with  the  leaders  of  the  Wilkes,  or  "popular  party,"  as  it 
was  then  called,  and  was  recognized  by  them  as  one  of 
themselves,  identified  with  their  cause,  and  engaged  in 
their  behalf  for  the  conflict.  He  became  a  writer  for  the 
press,  and  wrote  several  political  letters,  modelled  after  the 
style  of  Junius.  These  letters  evince  very  extensive  and 
accurate  information.  They  abound  in  personal  allusions 
and  bitter  invective.  Beside  the  letters,  Chatterton's 
satires  were,  in  many  parts,  of  the  same  political  type,  and 
were  designed  for  the  same  purpose.  While  thus  enjoying 
the  favor  of  the  popular  party,  and  courting  their  applause 
and  receiving  their  bounties,  the  youthful  writer  was  not 
averse  to  experiencing  a  like  return  from  the  opposite  side ; 
and,  if  there  be  truth  in  dates,  on  the  same  day  he  wrote 
two  letters  about  the  same  measure — the  city  remon 
strance — in  one  of  which  he  speaks  in  terms  of  commen 
dation  of  the  act  of  the  administration  in  rejecting  it ;  and 
in  the  other,  as  severely  condemned  it !  In  the  one  he  began : 
"  My  Lord,  it  gives  me  painful  pleasure."  And  in  the  other : 
'•When  the  endeavors  of  a  spirited  people  to  free  them 
selves  from  insupportable  slavery."  It  is  pleaded,  in  ex 
tenuation  of  this  fault — crime  it  surely  was  not — that  the 
penman  was  but  a  youth,  not  having  yet  reached  the  years 
of  responsibility ;  that  to  talk  of  the  political  course  of  a 
boy  of  seventeen  would  be  a  solecism  in  teims,  and  would 
justly  expose  the  critic  to  harsher  dealing  than  his  victim  ; 


54  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

and  that  during  the  formative  stage  of  the  intellect,  it  may 
be  regarded  rather  as  the  evidence  of  an  active  mind,  than 
of  a  perverted  moral  sense,  that  one  could  think  with  equal 
readiness  on  both  sides  of  a  subject,  and  discourse  with 
equal  fervor  and  eloquent  vehemence  on  both !  And  that, 
if  these  pleas  do  not  avail,  then  that  poverty  and  destitu 
tion  were  a  sufficient  excuse  and  apology !  That  indeed 
would  be  a  shallow  criticism  which  should  apply  to  the  ac 
tions  of  the  mere  youth  the  same  moral  canons  that  are 
adopted  in  the  judgment  of  the  actions  of  the  matured  and 
experienced,  without  taking  into  the  account  the  immatu 
rity  of  the  offender ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it  would  be 
productive  of  no  little  obliquities,  if  the  plea  of  nonage 
alone  were  allowed  to  overcome  all  moral  delinquencies. 
And  in  the  case  of  Chatterton,  whose  intellect  had  at  this 
time  so  ripened  and  matured  as  to  fully  equip  him  for  the 
actual  discharge  of  the  duties  of  life — to  perform  its  po 
litical  as  well  as  its  social  obligations ;  who  had  the  means 
at  hand  of  fully  measuring  the  extent  of  his  responsibility, 
and  who  ventured  to  be  a  director  and  guide  of  public 
opinion,  the  plea  of  infancy  would  be  a  sorry  and  incom 
plete  one,  and  will  scarcely  exculpate  him,  save  with  such 
judges  as  are  blinded  by  the  superior  light  of  his  genius 
and  the  remarkable  splendor  of  his  intellectual  produc 
tions  !  Poverty  and  penury,  too,  are  not  sufficient  of  them 
selves,  or  even  when  united  with  youthful  years,  to  justify 
so  gross  a  dereliction  of  duty,  and  so  flagrant  a  disregard 
of  moral  obligation  !  The  writer  for  the  public  eye  should 
value  sacredly  every  impression  he  is  making,  and  should 
as  distinctly  recognize  his  obligation  to  speak  honestly  and 
truthfully,  as  if  speaking  to  a  friend  or  companion  in  pri 
vate  !  and  should  scorn  a  support  gained  by  insincerity  in 
the  one  case  as  a  favor  obtained  by  falsehood  in  the  other. 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  55 

Lax  criticism  and  an  overweening  attachment,  not  to  say 
adoration,  of  genius,  have  too  frequently  taught  otherwise  ; 
and  this  to  such  an  extent,  that  a  reader  of  the  current 
literature  of  the  day — in  works  of  morals  sometimes,  as  in 
newspapers  and  periodicals — would  imagine  that  there  had 
been  implanted  in  us  a  moral  sense  of  two  kinds ;  the  one 
to  try  small  offenders  by,  of  a  strict  and  severe  cast ;  the 
other  of  a  loose  and  more  generous  type,  for  the  ingenious 
and  noble-born,  for  the  gifted  and  the  great ! 

Chatterton's  political  essays  were  doubtless  above  the 
average  of  his  day:  yet  they  served  no  higher  purpose 
than  to  flatter  his  pride  and  get  bread  for  their  author. 
Full  justice  has  not  been  done  to  his  other  prose  writings, 
of  which  they  were  many.  They  all  exhibit  fertility  of 
invention,  and  are  characterized  by  a  smoothness  of  rheto 
ric  which  would  have  been  remarkable  in  any  other  than 
the  creator  of  Rowley. 

We  now  approach  that  point  in  Chatterton's  career  which 
it  pities  us  should  ever  have  been  written.  His  hopeful 
prospects  of  fame  and  fortune  are  withering.  The  History 
of  London  was  never  begun,  or,  if  begun,  was  never  pub 
lished.  The  bonuses  of  politicians  and  statesmen,  falsely 
so  called,  are  uncertain  and  unsatisfactory.  The  newspa 
pers  are  fruitful  in  promises,  but  fruitless  in  their  perfor 
mance.  In  the  space  of  a  month,  he  changes  his  boarding 
house  a  second  and  even  a  third  time.  Necessity  or  pride 
is  driving  him  from  the  haunts  of  the  few  friends  he  had 
made.  A  brief  memorandum  in  his  pocket-book  tells  the 
condition  of  his  exchequer.  It  contains  a  charge  of  eleven 
pounds  due  him  from  London  publishers  ;  of  long  standing, 
doubtless,  and  unliquidated  !  Poverty  and  destitution  stare 
him  in  the  face.  He  locks  himself  up  in  his  upper  room, 
and  refuses  to  eat,  because  he  must  eat  the  bread  of  char- 


56  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

ity  !  Thoughts  of  bailiffs  crowd  his  brain,  and  he  longs  for 
Bristol  and  boyhood  !  We  may  suppose  him  repeating  the 
lines  which  occur  in  the  singular  document  he  entitles  his 
"  Last  Will  and  Testament:" 

"  Had  I  never  known  the  antique  lore, 

I  ne'er  had  ventured  from  my  peaceful  shore, 
To  be  the  wreck  of  promises  and  hopes, 
A  Boy  of  Learning  and  a  Bard  of  Tropes; 
But  happy  in  my  humble  sphere  had  moved." 

The  last  transient  gleam  of  hope  fled  when  Barret  re 
fused  him  assistance  in  procuring  a  situation  as  a  sur 
geon's  mate  to  the  coast  of  Africa,  a  situation  he  was  not 
fit  for. 

Henceforth  Chatterton  looks  into  the  face  of  despair, 
and  gathers  strength  and  nerve  for  the  deed  which  closes 
his  life.  How  sad  and  strange  the  conclusion  of  the  whole 
matter.  He  dies  by  his  own  hand  on  the  24th  of  August, 
1770! 

"  The  suicide,"  says  his  biographer,  "  was  effected  by 
arsenic  mixed  in  water  ;  such,  at  least,  was  the  opinion  of 
the  most  competent  authorities.  On  the  following  day, 
his  room  was  broken  open.  The  door  was  covered  with  a 
multitude  of  small  fragments  of  paper ;  an  evidence  that 
he  had  destroyed  all  the  unfinished  productions  of  his  mar 
vellous  intellect."  There  was  discovered  after  his  death,  in 
his  pocket-book,  a  set  of  lines  which,  for  his  memory's 
sake,  it  were  well  had  never  been  written.  They  could 
hardly  have  been  written  by  one  laboring  under  insanity, 
and  if  written  at  the  time  of  the  sad  occurrence,  as  by  their 
date  is  apparent,  evidence  the  possession  of  that  uncon 
querable  and  direst  foe  of  his  living  as  of  his  dying  expe 
rience — his  pride.  There  is  but  one  redeeming  feature  in 
the  whole :  he  does  not  forget  his  mother,  but  bids  her  a 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  57 

her  a  sad  adieu,  before  he  perpetrates  the  act  which  robs 
her  of  a  son  and  himself  of  life. 

THE   LAST   VERSES   WRITTEN   BY   CHATTBRTON. 

"Farewell,  Bristolia's  dingy  piles  of  brick, 
Lovers  of  mammon,  worshippers  of  trick  ! 
Ye  spurned  the  boy  who  gave  you  antique  lays, 
And  paid  for  learning  with  your  empty  praise. 
Farewell,  ye  guzzling,  aldermanic  fools, 
By  nature  fitted  for  corruption's  tools ! 
I  go  to  where  celestial  anthems  dwell, 
But  you  when  you  depart  will  sink  to  hell. 
Farewell,  my  mother! — cease,  my  anguished  soul, 
Nor  let  Distraction's  billows  o'er  me  roll! — 
Have  mercy,  Heaven  !  when  here  I  cease  to  live, 
And  this  last  act  of  wretchedness  forgive. 
"  August  24,  1770.  T.  C 

Let  us  attempt  something  more  than  shellwork  with  Chat- 
terton.  He  deserves  it.  His  work,  his  short  and  singular 
career,  his  splendor  of  genius,  his  untimely  fate,  command 
it.  If  we  were  called  upon  to  distinguish  him  by  a  single 
title,  we  should  characterize  him  as  the  Diligent  Worker. 
Not,  we  admit,  all  his  lifetime  a  workman  through  choice, 
or  always  earnest !  But  he  was  lashed  into  activity  by  the 
genius  that  stirred  within  him ;  and  this,  more  than  hun 
ger,  more  than  pride  or  the  aspiration  to  excel,  more  than 
the  affection  he  bore  his  parent  or  his  sister,  produced  the 
marvellous  history  of  a  boy-author  leaving  behind  him  such 
works  as  his  !  It  is  a  commonly  received  opinion,  though 
we  believe  an  erroneous  one,  that  men  distinguished  for 
genius  are  not  often  distinguished  for  industry.  The  plod 
ders  say  so,  and  the  million  believe  it.  But  it  is  not  true. 
In  merely  physical  labor,  what  does  not  the  world  owe  to 
its  men  of  genius,  its  men  of  thought?  In  every  depart- 


58  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

ment  of  industrial  pursuits,  as  in  every  branch  of  intellec 
tual  effort,  they  have  been  preeminent.  Toils  of  body 
which  would  have  worn  down  the  mere  plodder  have  been 
endured  by  the  thinker,  with  no  regard  to  their  extent, 
their  recollection  being  forgotten  in  the  superior  splendors 
of  the  mind  and  its  noble  products.  Sir  Humphrey  Davy 
toiling  over  his  lamp,  Milton  delving  at  his  political  manu 
scripts  or  elaborating  his  poems,  Newton  walking  by  the 
ocean  of  science,  and  picking  up  pebbles  from  the  rocky 
shore,  were  all  workmen,  and  workmen  in  earnest.  Bacon, 
too,  was  a  worker.  His  experiments  in  natural  science 
alone  would  afford  work  for  a  lifetime.  And  time  would 
fail  us  to  speak  of  the  hosts  of  men  in  Germany,  England, 
and  our  own  and  other  countries,  that  might  be  added  to 
the  list.  Goethe  and  Richter.  Chalmers  and  Southey, 
Irving  and  Prescott,  are  examples  of  earnest  industry  and 
an  active  working  ;  the  last  named  especially  pursuing  zeal 
ously  his  historical  pursuits  under  circumstances  the  most 
difficult  and  trying,  enough  to  dampen  the  ardor  and  de 
press  the  zeal  of  the  most  hopeful  and  laborious.  As  spe 
cimens  of  other  nations,  Lope  de  Vega  had  written  in  the 
compass  of  a  few  years  an  innumerable  series  of  trage 
dies,  and  Voltaire's  works  are  so  multitudinous  that  the 
manual  labor  of  copying  them  would  require  for  its  exe 
cution  a  decade,  (though  a  decade  ill  spent,  or  the  tithe  of 
it.)  These  works  were  the  fruits  of  a  workman.  It  is, 
then,  we  repeat,  an  erroneous  impression  that  men  distin 
guished  for  their  genius  have,  as  a  general  rule,  been  dis 
tinguished  for  their  idleness  or  No- Work.  Independently 
of  the  vast  numbers  who  have  united  to  the  cares  of  state 
the  not  less  important  cares  of  the  man  of  letters,  it  is  true 
that  the  man  of  thought  who  lives  worthy  of  his  name  is  a 
man  of  labor.  Chatterton  was  truly  such.  In  early  child- 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  59 

hood,  his  mother's  garret  witnessed  his  toils,  and  the  after- 
years  bore  witness  to  the  fidelity  with  which  he  wrought, 
for  fame.  Besides  a  volume  of  acknowledged  poems,  quite 
enough  to  have  occupied  the  spare  hours  of  a  schoolboy 
and  attorney 's-apprentice  for  ten  years  of  labor— his  prose- 
writings  alone,  in  the  edition  by  Southey  and  Cottle,  fill  an 
octavo  volume  of  upwards  of  four  hundred  pages !  And 
what  shall  we  say  of  the  chief  labor  of  his  life,  the  Row 
ley  poems,  upon  which  he  expended  doubtless  the  largest 
portion  of  his  available  time,  and  which  was  his  most  de 
lightful  employment?  The  almost  merely  mechanical  task 
of  transferring  these  into  thoir  antique  garb  was  a  hercu 
lean  one,  and  with  the  poet  the  less  attractive  and  enter 
taining;  unless  we  may  conceive  that  his  work  had  so 
grown  upon  his  affection,  that  he  had  learned  to  cherish 
his  antiquated  and  daily  companions,  Bailey's  Dictionary, 
or  Kersey  or  Speght,  with  as  much  of  interest  as  the  vis- 
itings  of  the  muse  and  the  stirrings  of  the  inward  fire 
which  kindled  and  glowed  in  the  recital  of  JElla  or  the 
Ballade  of  Charitie  :  or  even  the  gentler  moods  and  sweeter 
yet  more  mournful  strains  of  the  two  "Systers  in  Sorrowe," 
who  were  widowed  in  a  single  night,  and 

"wandered  to  swollen  Rudborne's  syde. 

Yelled  theyre  lethalle  Knelle,  sonke  yun  the  waves  and  dyd." 

Every  one  will  note  as  a  distinguishing  characteristic 
of  Chatterton's  genius,  its  precocity.  This  has  given  him 
the  greatest  hold  upon  the  public  mind,  and  will  probably 
widen  and  lengthen  his  fame.  It  is  his  chief  distinction 
indubitably ;  but  if  this  were  all,  the  marvellous  boy  would 
be  but  a  boy  still,  and  we  might  hear  his  name  simply 
cited  among  a  series  of  illustrations  of  remarkable  exhibi 
tions  of  youthful  intellect,  with  Zera  Colburn,  and  the 


60  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

rest !  But  there  is  something  in  the  peculiar  character  of 
the  precocity  of  this  boy.  He  had  nothing  of  the  boy 
about  him.  There  was  a  completeness  of  intellect  and  a 
completeness  in  intellectual  efforts  in  every  direction  to 
which  they  were  applied,  that  marked  him  as  mentally  a 
complete  man  !  This  is  remarked  by  Foster  as  rendering  it 
probable  that  had  Chatterton  lived  he  would  not  have  ful 
filled  the  generous  predictions  which  had  been  augured  con 
cerning  him.  However  this  may  have  been,  and  we  pre 
tend  not  to  be  seers,  it  is  unquestionably  true  of  him,  more 
than  of  any  other  prodigy  of  intellect,  that  his  mental  ex 
hibitions  are  of  such  a  character  as  to  invite  to  their  scru 
tiny  the  same  canons  and  rules  that  would  be  exercised 
and  applied  to  one  of  mature  years.  Chatterton  was  not, 
however,  a  fully  developed  man.  In  intellectual  powers 
he  ranked  as  such ;  but  his  present  biographer  errs  most 
indubitably  in  the  assertion  that  his  moral  nature  was  manly, 
if  he  means  thereby  to  express  the  opinion  that  the  vir 
tues  of  the  youth  had  attained  their  growth  or  stability. 
Chatterton,  it  is  true,  neither  puled  nor  drivelled.  He  was 
as  far  removed  from  the  cant  of  the  infidel  as  the  so-called 
Christian ;  yet  was  he  not  altogether  as  he  ought  to  have 
been.  He  lacked  the  stamina  of  right  principle,  strength 
ened  and  developed  by  right  action  for  a  long  term  of 
years.  He  had  not  formed  those  habits  of  virtue  which 
are  possibly  as  necessary  for  proper  living  as  virtue  itself. 
While  not  deficient  in  endurance — never  whining  under 
wrong  and  never  complaining  of  injustice  to  his  youth — it 
was  his  pride,  his  unconquerable  pride,  rather  than  his 
moral  force,  that  enabled  him  to  withstand  the  imagined  as 
well  as  the  real  wrongs  of  his  detractors  and  friends.  Chat 
terton  would  unquestionably  have  made  a  good  hater — 
which  Johnson  longed  for — rather  than  a  true  lover  of 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  61 

truth  for  the  truth's  sake,  of  the  right  for  the  right's  sake. 
In  his  social  intercourse,  no  less  than  in  his  political  "  ter 
giversation,"  we  discover  a  remarkable  laxity  of  adhesion  ; 
rather  evincing  a  regard  to  personal  advancement  as  the 
main  inducement  to  his  attachments,  than  an  earnest,  heart 
felt,  sincere  devotion  to  friendship,  which  is  attached  it 
knows  not  why  or  how.  In  fine — for  we  must  abbreviate 
what  we  would  say  on  this  point — because  of  his  almost 
unnatural  growth  intellectually,  he  has  the  strength  of 
manhood  without  its  habits  of  virtuous  action — the  bold 
ness  and  hardihood,  and  the  expedients  of  the  intel 
lectual  veteran,  yet  the  feebleness  and  inefficiency  and  help 
lessness  of  moral  infancy.  We  do  not  believe  the  charge 
of  libertinism  preferred  against  him,  yet  passages  in  his 
poems  and  prose  writings  might  be  cited  to  establish  that 
he  was  neither  a  prude  nor  a  saint.  We  forbear  to  speak 
of  his  pride,  which  he  confessed  in  one  of  his  letters  con 
stituted  nineteen-twentieths  of  his  nature ;  or  of  the 
sad  and  fearful  catastrophe  of  which  it  was  the  occa 
sion. 

Singular  throughout  life,  the  single  golden  strand  that 
binds  him  to  the  humanity  of  his  day  was  the  strength  and 
continuance  of  the  attachment  he  bore  his  parent  and  sis 
ter.  One  is  at  a  loss  to  reconcile  this  unselfish  devotion  to 
these  with  other  facts  in  his  life.  Nor  do  we  discover  here 
any  exhibition  of  the  pride  which  so  distinguished  him. 
With  them,  he  is  natural  and  childlike,  and  the  son  and 
brother  writes  in  the  letters  which  have  been  preserved  in 
glowing  and  fervent  language  to  his  own  !  The  promise  of 
a  new  dress  gives  as  much  joy  to  his  heart  as  the  announce 
ment  of  a  new  poem,  or  the  triumph  of  a  new  article,  or 
some  state  achievement.  Let  us  set  down  to  his  credit,  if 
we  strip  him  of  every  other  virtue,  that  he  had  somewhat 


62  THOMAS  CHATTERTON. 

of  truth  in  him,  and  acted  it  in  filling  up  and  discharging 
as  far  as  in  kis  power  the  duties  of  a  child  and  brother! 

Chatterton's  training  was  defective,  yet  we  should  err  if 
we  attribute  the  waywardness  of  his  career  to  defects  in 
his  education.  The  education  he  enjoyed  was  probably  as 
efficient  as  any  other  course  of  training  would  have  been. 
While  he  had  not  mastered  the  classics  (strictly  so  called) 
in  their  original  tongues,  in  their  stead  he  had  cultivated 
an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  classics  of  his  own 
tongue,  and  through  the  medium  of  translations  had  made 
himself  familiar  with  the  best  literature  of  the  ancients. 
Some  few  of  his  poems  are  translations.  If  a  thorough 
training  in  classical  learning  and  the  usual  curriculum  of 
the  college  had  served  to  postpone  his  acquaintance  with 
the  soberer  realities  of  life  and  its  severer  struggles,  it  had 
been  well ;  but  then  the  Rowley  poems  would  never  have 
seen  the  light,  and  the  world  would  have  been  the  loser. 
The  six  years  of  Chatterton's  life  at  the  school  of  Colston 
were  not  the  least  important.  The  free  use  of  circulating- 
libraries  and  an  earnest  study  of  their  treasures,  (fortu 
nately  it  was  before  the  advent  of  latter-day  fiction,)  made 
him  a  master  of  the  learning  which  was  essential  to  the 
character  he  was  about  to  assume  and  successfully  carry 
out.  Perhaps  his  truest  instructor  and  most  successful 
leader  was  the  usher-poet,  whose  memory  he  has  preserved 
in  fragrant  verses,  redolent  of  friendship  and  trustingness. 
Few  schools  of  his  day  could  boast  of  a  Thomas  Phillips, 
and  fewer  Phillipses  would  have  found  in  the  wonderful 
child  a  companion  and  a  friend.  Not  to  the  want  of  edu 
cation  at  school  do  we  trace  the  aberrations  of  our  poet, 
but  rather  to  his  lack  of  education  at  home ;  or,  if  we  may 
so  say,  to  his  superior  mental  training  without  a  corres 
ponding  growth  of  the  moral  part  of  his  being — to  his 


THOMAS  CHATTERTON.  63 

want  of  experience  and  forethought  as  a  habit,  rather  than 
to  a  defective  development  of  the  guiding  power  of  the 
rational  faculty.  He  had  learned,  and  aptly  learned,  that 
worldly  wisdom  which,  in  his  case,  as  in  others  of  elder 
years  and  riper  powers,  enabled  him  to  weigh  and  balance 
the  probabilities  of  success,  and  the  means  for  its  accom 
plishment.  This  made  him  a  man.  But  he  had  failed  to 
learn  that  higher  and  purer  wisdom  which  his  mother's 
black-letter  Bible  might  have  taught  him,  and  which,  if  he 
had  followed  to  the  end,  instead  of  the  sad  eclipse  of  his 
genius,  his  sun,  after  riding  the  zenith  and  scattering 
its  light  over  the  ages,  would  have  gone  down  with  the 
splendor  its  rising  had  betokened. 


HOPKINS'S  AMERICAN  CITIZEN.* 

BISHOP  HOPKINS  rightly  estimates  the  value  of  citizen 
ship  in  this  country,  and  has  aptly  unfolded  in  this  volume 
many  of  the  rights  and  duties,  of  high  privilege  and  respon 
sibility,  which  such  citizenship  involves.  No  people  were 
ever  called  to  the  discharge  of  higher  obligations,  or  were  so 
thoroughly  equipped  by  nature  and  by  training  for  the  task. 
The  experience  of  many  centuries  was  required  to  put  into 
healthful  action  the  agencies  which,  though  set  on  foot  long 
before,  found  their  full  development  only  in  the  complete 
organization  of  the  American  government.  We  cannot  claim 
the  method  of  that  organization  as  altogether  our  own. 
Highly  as  we  esteem  the  wisdom  of  the  fathers  of  the  Re 
public,  we  would  be  guilty  of  a  gross  perversion  of  history  if 
we  attributed  to  them  alone  the  capacity  to  organize  such  a 
government,  to  give  to  it  its  appropriate  machinery,  and  to 
clothe  it  with  almost  unlimited  power  of  expansion,  with 
out  first  having  availed  themselves  of  the  helps  and  aids 
which  three  centuries  of  struggling  in  the  mother  country 
had  furnished.  The  seed-plots  of  American  liberty  were 
sown  many  years  before  the  battle  of  Lexington,  and  long 
before  his  Majesty,  King  George  III.,  taxed  the  colonies 

*  The  American  Citizen  ;  his  rights  and  duties  according  to  the  spirit  of 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States.  By  JOHN  HENRY  HOPKINS,  D.  D., 
LLD.,  Bishop  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  Diocese  of 
Vermont.  New  York:  Pudney  &  Russell,  79  John  street.  1857. 


66  THE  RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS  OF 

without  their  consent,  or  committed  any  of  the  offences 
against  right,  so  graphically  portrayed  in  the  Declaration 
of  Independence.  So,  too,  the  practical  knowledge  which 
was  brought  to  the  task  of  framing  the  government  was, 
in  chief  part,  derived  from  a  severe  study  of  the  principles 
which  had  been  agitated  in  the  mother  country,  and  which, 
by  free  discussion,  had  become  the  common  property  of  all 
educated  men.  The  writings  of  Milton,  the  lives  of 
Hampden  and  Pym,  the  bold  speeches  and  bolder  action 
of  the  Protector,  had  not  been  without  their  effect  in  dif 
fusing,  throughout  the  entire  range  of  English  civilization, 
embracing  the  colonies  of  England  as  well  as  her  immedi 
ate  territory,  the  spirit  of  true  liberty.  The  works  of  her 
statesmen  and  orators  were  the  property  and  the  daily 
mental  food  of  the  educated  among  the  colonists,  and  not 
a  few  of  them  resorted  to  her  universities  to  secure  for 
themselves  the  advantages  there  afforded.  If  we  look  at 
the  events,  immediately  preceding  and  subsequent  to  the 
Revolution,  by  the  light  of  mere  veneration,  we  may 
blindly  invest  our  fathers  with  miraculous  power.  If  we 
look  at  them  as  the  result  in  chief  part  of  the  antecedent 
history  of  our  people  and  race,  as  the  latest  unfolding  of 
the  experiences  of  the  past,  we  shall  indeed  see  less  of  the 
marvelous,  but  we  will  see  more  of  beauty  and  perfectness, 
in  the  system  of  government  they  organized  and  set  on 
foot. 

There  never  had  been  offered  before  a  more  inviting  op 
portunity  for  solidifying  principles  into  positive  institutions. 
The  materials  of  the  new  government  were  prepared  for 
the  work.  Thirteen  sovereignties,  which  had  been  taught 
by  healthful  action  and  experience  to  exercise  the  gift  of 
sovereignty,  were  about  to  blend  into  one  common  form. 
They  desired  a  new  compact — but  something  more  ;  a  mere 


THE  AMERICAN  CITIZEN.  67 

compact  would  not  suffice.  This  new  form  of  government 
was  to  be  invested  with  some  portion  of  the  sovereignty 
they  themselves  exercised ;  and  for  the  common  welfare, 
they  were  willing  to  relinquish  so  much  as  was  necessary 
for  the  purpose.  They  gave  and  intended  to  give  no  more. 
They  gave  and  intended  to  give  as  much  as  would  be  ne 
cessary  to  clothe  the  common  sovereignty  with  enough  of 
power  to  keep  the  whole  in  harmonious  action  and  to  ena 
ble  it  to  protect  the  several  parts.  This  is  the  essential 
idea  and  scheme  of  the  American  government ;  an  enigma 
to  foreigners,  but  plain  and  simple  and  of  easy  solution  to 
the  American.  Taking  this  view  of  the  origin  of  the 
Federal  Government — a  view  sanctioned  by  contempora 
neous  history,  and  by  the  uniform  principles  of  action 
adopted  by  men  of  every  shade  of  opinion  from  that  day 
to  this — there  can  be  no  difficulty  in  ascertaining  how  far 
the  government  thus  framed  would  be  clothed  with  the 
power  to  interfere  with  the  rights  of  conscience,  as  exer 
cised  by  the  citizens  of  the  several  States.  Even  in  the 
absence  of  any  express  inhibition  in  the  Constitution,  there 
would  seem  to  be  no  good  purpose  to  be  secured  by  such 
interference.  The  sovereignty  with  which  it  was  intended 
to  invest  the  Federal  Government  did  not  reach,  wras  not 
designed  to  reach,  and  could  by  no  possible  contingency 
reach,  or  in  any  wise  affect  the  relations  of  the  citizen  to 
his  God.  That  was  outside  of  the  natural  sphere  it  was 
designed  to  occupy.  It  would  prove  a  clog  upon  its  har 
monious  operations  ;  or,  if  introduced  either  directly  or 
indirectly,  into  its  workings,  would  have  set  the  whole  ajar. 
The  framers  of  the  government  were  too  wise  to  introduce 
any  such  disturbing  element.  They  knew  the  history  of 
the  past  too  well ;  they  valued  too  highly  their  individual 
liberties ;  they  were  too  much  attached  to  the  comparative 


68  THE  RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS  OF 

freedom  they  enjoyed,  to  assent  to  any  measure  which 
should  cut  themselves  off  from  the  proper  exercise  of  these. 
If  asked  for  their  religious  views,  they  would  doubtless 
have  answered  that  the  Bible  (as  we  have  it)  was  the  reli 
gion  of  the  land ;  that  its  sacred  precepts  were  the  foun 
dation  of  social  order,  the  amplest  and  the  best  security 
for  the  government ;  but  they  would  not  have  answered 
that  they  designed  to  incorporate  that  or  any  other  system 
of  religion  into  the  organic  law  of  the  country  ;  that,  being 
assigned  the  task  of  framing  a  scheme  of  government  for 
a  combination  of  sovereignties,  they  had  no  ghostly  coun 
sel  to  furnish,  no  sovereign  panacea  for  spiritual  diseases 
to  provide. 

This,  we  believe,  was  the  general  opinion  adopted  by  all 
the  statesmen  of  that  day,  and  it  has  been  echoed  with  one 
consent  by  all  constitutional  writers  who  have  treated  on 
the  subject  since.1  It  is  confirmed  by  express  provisions  in 
the  Constitution,  to  which  it  will  become  necessary  here 
after  to  advert.  It  is  not,  however,  the  opinion  of  the 
author  of  this  work.  He  maintains  that  there  is  a  consti 
tutional  requirement  of  religion,  and  tells  us,  in  so  many 
words,  that  "  the  religious  rights  of  the  citizen  of  the 
United  States  consist  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  own  consci 
entious  choice  amongst  all  the  forms  of  our  common 
Christianity  which  were  in  existence  at  the  time  when  the 
Constitution  was  established;"  beyond  this,  the  citizen 
may  be  tolerated  to  profess  a  religion — he  has  no  right. 
In  another  connection  the  author  seems  to  teach  that  the 
only  Christian  rights  and  liberties  then  enjoyed,  and  de 
signed  to  be  protected  by  the  Constitution,  were  those  of 
the  Congregationalists,  the  Reformed  Dutch,  the  Scotch 
and  English  Presbyterians,  the  German  Lutherans,  the 
Friends,  or  Quakers,  the  Baptists,  the  Methodists,  the 


THE  AMERICAN  CITIZEN.  69 

Koman  Catholics,  and  the  Episcopalians.  The  Jews,  he 
thinks,  maybe  tolerated,  but,  with  that  "single  exception," 
he  adds :  u  I  can  find  no  right  for  the  public  exercise  of 
any  religious  faith  under  our  great  Federal  Charter  which 
does  not  acknowledge  the  Divine  authority  of  the  Christian 
Bible." 

It  is  manifest  from  the  language  the  author  has  used, 
that  he  considers  the  right  to  exercise  a  religious  faith  to 
be  derived  by  the  citizen  from  the  Constitution.  He  speaks 
of  those  rights  being  protected  by  the  Constitution,  and 
calls  it  the  great  "Federal  Charter."  Doubtless  he  means 
that  the  Constitution  is  the  charter  of  our  religious  as  of 
our  civil  liberty.  We  have  already  exposed  the  fallacy  of 
these  views.  In  no  proper  sense  can  it  be  said  that  the 
right  of  our  citizens  to  enjoy  what  religion  they  may 
choose  is  derived  from  the  Constitution  of  the  Federal 
Government.  Equally  improper  is  it  to  call  it  the  "  char 
ter"  of  those  rights  as  if  they  had  been  aforetime  in  peril, 
and  were  rescued  and  guaranteed  to  us  in  the  federal 
compact. 

But  the  error  of  Bishop  Hopkins  is  something  more 
than  verbal.  While  maintaining  in  full  force  and  vigor 
the  common  standard  of  Christian  principle,  the  Bible,  he 
attempts  to  introduce  a  new  feature  into  the  operations  of 
the  government  by  maintaining  the  equal  rights  only  of 
those  Christian  Churches  and  sects  "  which  existed  at  the 
day"  the  American  Constitution  was  adopted.  It  is  this 
last  limitation  that  we  are  chiefly  inclined  to  question. 
We  do  so  for  this  reason :  It  would  be  impossible  to  inau 
gurate  it  as  a  rule  of  action  without  instantly  introducing 
intolerance,  and  admitting  the  power  of  the  State  to  con 
trol  the  exercise  of  religious  beliefs.  If  it  be  granted  that 
the  right  of  religious  beliefs  is  restricted  to  the  beliefs 


70  THE  RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS  OF 

existent  at  the  time  of  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution, 
the  State  will  be  the  arbiter  to  settle  which  forms  of  Chris 
tian  beliefs  were  then  existent,  and  we  shall  clothe  the 
latter  with  the  amplest  power  to  encourage  and  foster,  or 
crush  out  and  destroy,  any  form  of  belief  towards  which 
"the  powers  that  be"  might  be  well  or  ill  affected.  If 
this  were  the  case,  it  would  not  be  long  before  wre  should 
witness  the  clashing  of  sects  and  opinions  on  the  civil 
arena ;  and  the  strife  would  wax  as  furious  as  in  the  bit 
terest  period  of  religious  intolerance.  Do  what  we  might 
to  prevent  it,  these  questions  would  be  instantly  debated  : 
What  were  the  Churches  that  existed  in  the  era  of  the 
American  Constitution  ?  what  were  their  forms  of  govern 
ment,  their  faiths,  their  practices  ?  what  part  of  the  coun 
try  did  they  occupy  ?  are  the  present  a  lawful  or  a  bastard 
progeny  ?  have  they  changed  in  form,  in  faith,  in  practice, 
or  even  in  locality  ?  There  were  Calvinists  then — Presby 
terians  so  called  :  who  are  their  lawful  descendants,  the 
Old  or  the  New  School  Presbyterians  ?  There  were  Bap 
tists  then :  who  are  their  lawful  descendants,  the  Regular 
Baptists  or  the  Reformers  ?  did  they  observe  the  Lord's 
day  or  the  seventh  day  ?  were  they  Mission  or  Anti-Mis 
sion  ?  There  were  Protestant  Episcopalians :  were  they 
High  Church  or  Low  Church  ?  were  they  Puseyites  or  Non- 
Puseyites  ?  There  were  Methodists  then  :  were  they  Calvi- 
nistic  or  Arminian  ?  did  they  follow  Whitefield  or  Wesley  ? 
Here  then  would  be  opened  the  floodgate  first  to  religious 
intolerance  and  acrimony,  and  afterwards  to  civil  and  state 
persecution  ;  nor  would  the  bitter  tide  expend  itself  until 
these  rival  bodies  and  rival  interests  had  settled  their  pre 
cedence  at  the  era  of  the  country's  independence,  and 
history  or  the  sword  had  vindicated  their  respective  claims  ! 
Could  the  demon  of  intolerance  desire  a  more  ample  har- 


THE  AMERICAN  CITIZEN.  71 

vest  to  be  spread  oat  for  the  reaping  "i  Bishop  Hopkins  is 
too  catholic  and  judicious  to  covet  any  such  controversy. 
He  would  shrink,  we  know,  from  the  expression  of  a  sen 
timent,  the  probable  result  of  which  would  be  anything 
like  the  picture  we  have  attempted  to  draw.  Yet  is  it  not 
true  ?  does  not  the  history  of  the  past  testify  to  the  truth, 
that  the  bitterness  of  persecution  for  religion's  sake  is  not 
to  be  measured  by  the  differences,  but  rather  by  the  resem 
blances  of  religious  belief;  that  it  is  not  the  widest  points 
of  difference  in  doctrine  which  most  tend  to  promote  dis 
cord,  but  the  nearest  ?  If  this  be  true,  the  controversy 
his  doctrine  would  beget,  beginning  with  an  acrimonious 
discussion,  would  finally  result  in  the  bitterest  persecution 
of  the  Churches ;  not  waged  for  the  absence  of  vital  god 
liness,  but  for  differences  in  the  cut  of  the  coat  or  the 
shape  of  the  shoe ;  for  the  wearing  of  a  gown  or  putting 
it  off ;  for  bowing  or  sitting  at  the  sacrament ;  and  the 
like. 

The  picture  is  a  gloomy  one.  Admit,  however,  that  such 
results  would  not  flow  ;  admit  that,  under  the  benign  influ 
ence  of  the  author's  doctrine,  Christian  toleration  would 
be  given  and  always  given  to  the  sects  he  has  enumerated  ; 
still  the  germ  of  the  evil  would  be  there,  ready  to  bud  at 
the  earliest  favorable  opportunity.  The  power  of  the  State 
would  be  called  in  to  determine  which  is  true  and  which  is 
false  ;  her  wisdom  would  be  consulted  to  devise  schemes, 
and  her  force  employed  to  carry  them  out,  for  the  annihi 
lation  of  the  new  sects  which  have  sprung  up  since  the 
formation  of  the  Federal  Government,  or  may  spring  up 
hereafter.  Sects  would  thicken  and  multiply  as  the  work 
of  destruction  or  persecution  went  on :  and  in  a  little 
while,  the  glory  of  a  tolerant  government  would  be  con 
verted  into  the  shame  of  an  intolerable  religious  tyranny. 


72  THE  RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS  OF 

The  advocates  ot  religious  interference  go  quite  far  enough 
when  they  say  that  the  safety  of  the  people  being  the  su 
preme  law,*  whenever  the  profession  or  practice  of  any 
religion  interferes  with  the  due  discharge  of  the  duties  of 
the  citizen,  the  latter  must  override  the  former — the  reli 
gion  must  yield.  Granting  that  the  form  of  government 
is  the  best,  and  that  infallible  judges  might  apply  the  rule, 
we  should  admit  the  statement  as  a  mere  truism  commend 
ing  itself  to  the  ripe  judgment  of  every  one.  But  even 
here  we  are  met  by  the  difficulty  that  human  judgments 
are  not  infallible,  and  that  it  would  be  hazardous  (to  say 
no  more)  to  commit  to  the  keeping  of  any  man,  or  body  of 
men,  the  consciences  and  the  religion  of  the  people.  Where, 
on  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  conflict  between  the  avowed 
religion  of  the  citizen  and  the  natural  sphere  of  govern 
mental  operations ;  where  the  duties  of  the  citizen  are  not 
impinged  upon  by  his  religious  faith,  there  it  is  clearly  the 
duty  of  the  State,  not  indeed  to  tolerate,  but  to  protect  in 
their  proper  exercise  the  religious  rights  of  its  citizens, 
and  not  to  allow  them  to  be  in  any  wise  disturbed.  We 
object,  as  we  have  said,  to  the  words  "religious  toleration" 
as  applied  to  our  government.  These  words  imply  that 
"religious  beliefs"  are  matters  of  State  concern,  and  that 
to  the  due  enjoyment  of  any  form  of  religion  there  must 
first  be  secured  the  sanction  of  the  powers  of  the  govern 
ment.  This  is  fallacious.  The  State  as  such,  our  govern 
ment  as  such,  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  forms  of  reli 
gious  beliefs.  It  takes  no  other  cognizance  of  them  save 
that  which  it  takes  to  secure  their  proper  enjoyment.  If, 
indeed,  they  conflict  with  the  well-being  of  the  State ;  if 
their  profession  or  practice  lead  to  a  breach  of  the  laws 

*  Solus  populi  suprema  lex. 


THE  AMERICAN  CITIZEN.  73 

enacted  for  the  public  safety  and  welfare,  then  such 
breaches  should  be  punished  as  any  other  breaches  are 
punished.  This  would  cut  off  Mormonism,  the  impurities 
of  Mohammedanism,  Thnggism,  and  indeed,  all  other 
breaches  of  public  law,  whether  committed  by  Catholic  or 
Protestant,  by  a  professed  saint  or  a  professed  sinner.  The 
ground  upon  which,  in  the  absence  of  the  principles  we 
have  attempted  to  defend,  Bishop  Hopkins  attempts  to 
justify  the  claim  of  the  Jews  to  worship  in  this  country  iy 
specious  and  unsound  : 

"The  meaning  of  the  Cons.itutiou  can  only  be  derived,"  he  say;-, 
"from  the  reasonable  intention  of  the  people  of  the  United  States. 
Their  language,  religion,  customs,  laws  and  modes  of  thought,  were  all 
transplanted  from  the  mother  country:  and  we  are  bound  to  believe 
that  whatever  was  tolerated  publicly  in  England  was  doubtless  meant 
10  be  protected  here.  On  this  ground  there  is  no  question  about  the 
constitutional  right  of  our  Jewish  fellow-citizens,  whose  synagogues 
had  long  before  been  established  in  London.  But  with  this  single  ex 
ception,  I  can  find  no  right  for  the  public  exercise  of  any  religions 
faith  under  our  great  Federal  Charter  which  does  not  acknowledge  the 
Divine  authority  of  the  Christian  Bible."' 

Here  our  author  is  at  fault,  both  in  his  facts  and  his 
deduction  from  the  facts.  How  were  the  Jews  tolerated 
in  England  at  the  time  that  the  people  of  this  country 
transplanted  the  religion  and  customs  of  the  mother  coun 
try  to  this  ?  Were  they  allowed  accession  to  the  public 
councils  ?  were  they  eligible  to  office  ?  could  they  have 
filled  a  ministerial  post  of  the  lowest  dignity  among  the 
myriad  offices  of  his  sovereign  majesty,  the  then  ruling 
monarch  of  two  kingdoms  ?  Was  it  not  a  mere  toleration 
and  nothing  more  ?  the  simple  privilege  of  breathing  Eng 
lish  air  while  they  worshipped  Jehovah  as  they  were  taught 
by  their  fathers.  Is  this  the  sort  of  "toleration"  the 
Bishop  would  confer  upon  the  Jews  of  this  country  ?  We 
6 


74  THE  RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS  OF 

take  it  for  granted  that  in  the  allusion  to  the  transplant 
ing  of  manners  from  the  mother  country  to  this,  the  author 
refers  more  particularly  to  the  happy  reign  of  King  James 
the  First ;  a  monarch  whose  career  was  as  remarkable  for 
its  tyrannical  and  oppressive  exactions,  whose  era  was  as 
noted  for  kingly  and  prelatical  rage,  as  any  which  preceded 
it,  if  we  except  the  reign  of  the  bloody  Mary.  The  Court 
of  High  Commission  was  permitted  by  this  king  to  glut  its 
voracious  appetite  with  victims  not  a  few  ;  and  he  seems 
himself  to  have  been  more  than  partial  to  its  operations, 
for,  in  express  violation  of  his  solemn  pledges  to  the  Scott 
ish  Church,  he  introduced  it  into  Scotland  to  carry  on  in 
that  Country  its  destructive  work.  Even  the  superficial 
reader  of  English  history  will  recall  also  the  famous  five 
points  which  he  attempted  to  thrust  upon  the  Scottish 
Church.  Bishop  Hopkins  would  surely  not  claim  as  a  part 
of  our  religious  system  either  the  High  Commission  Court 
or  the  intolerance  of  this  monarch,  or  even  the  religious 
doctrines  taught  by  the  English  government  afterwards. 
Yet  how  does  he,  how  can  he  introduce  a  part  of  that  sys 
tem — one  of  its  relieving  features,  it  is  true — as  of  binding 
obligation  while  the  system  itself  is  ignored  and  repudiated  ? 
Into  this  dilemma  must  he  be  driven  if  he  attempts  to  jus 
tify  the  toleration  of  the  Jews  in  this  country  simply  on 
the  ground  that  they  were  tolerated  in  England.  Another 
and  not  less  serious  difficulty  will  he  encounter  when  he 
makes  the  attempt  to  ascertain  the  particular  era  of  settle 
ment  of  any  one  State,  and  the  special  customs  brought 
from  the  mother  country  into  that  State.  If  our  ances 
tors,  the  framers  of  the  Federal  Constitution,  are  to  be 
supposed  to  have  inherited  the  customs  and  religious  be 
liefs  of  their  progenitors,  and  the  terms  of  the  Constitu 
tion  are  to  be  construed  by  a  reference  to  these  customs 


THE  AMERICAN  CITIZEN.  75 

and  religious  beliefs,  we  shall  have  as  many  different  inter 
pretations  as  there  were  differences  in  the  respective  settle 
ments  of  the  colonies,  and  in  the  opinions  and  customs 
which  were  propagated  among  them. 

It  will  not  be  pretended,  for  example,  that  the  Catho 
lics  of  Maryland  brought  with  them  from  England  the 
laws  which  prohibited  the  free  exercise  of  their  own  reli 
gious  beliefs.  They  brought  with  them,  at  farthest,  only 
so  much  of  the  law  as  did  not  conflict  with  this  right.  So 
with  the  Puritans  of  New  Plymouth ;  they  brought  only  so 
much  of  the  laws  as  did  not  impair  their  right  to  serve 
God  in  their  own  way.  So  with  the  Episcopalians  of  Vir 
ginia  ;  each  brought  over  with  them  only  so  much  of  the 
customs  and  laws  of  the  mother  country  as  did  not  abridge 
the  exercise  of  their  own  religious  beliefs.  It  is  apparent, 
then,  that  the  standards  of  toleration  vary  with  the  people 
by  which  they  are  to  be  exercised ;  that  these  standards 
are  strict  or  loose,  are  Catholic  or  Protestant,  are  Presby 
terian  or  Episcopalian,  as  they  are  applied  by  the  one  or 
the  other.  Would  any  American  citizen  be  content  to  have 
his  religious  rights  guaranteed  by  such  shifting  and  uncer 
tain  tenures  ?  Adopt  this  view,  and  what  possible  fixed 
interpretation  can  be  assigned  to  the  terms  of  a  constitu 
tion — the  common  organic  agreement  of  these  several  bodies 
of  people — when  the  rules  which  govern  its  interpretation 
by  the  one  not  only  differ  from,  but  contradict  and  totally 
subvert  the  rules  adopted  by  the  other?  If  the  Jews  enjoy 
the  right  to  the  exercise  of  their  religious  faith  under  the 
aegis  of  our  Constitution,  their  protection  in  the  enjoyment 
of  that  faith  must  be  found  somewhere  else  than  in  the 
fact  that  their  faith  was  tolerated  in  England.  It  must  be 
found  in  the  operation  of  a  principle  which  will  introduce 
to  similar  rights  the  professor  of  any  religion,  Christian  or 


76  THE  RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS  OF 

otherwise,  the  due  exercise  of  which  is  compatible  with  the 
discharge  of  the  duties  of  the  citizen,  the  due  exercise  of 
which  does  not,  on  the  one  hand,  necessitate  a  breach  of 
the  penal  laws  of  the  land,  or,  on  the  other,  invite  to  an 
omission  to  fulfil  any  duty  enjoined.  To  be  consistent 
with  the  practical  operation  of  our  government,  our  author 
must  find,  too,  a  principle  which  will  admit  the  Jew  to 
office  in  the  same  manner  and  to  the  same  extent  as  the 
Christian. 

The  stress  of  his  position  has  occasioned  on  the  part  of 
Bishop  Hopkins  a  palpable  misinterpretation  of  the  lan 
guage  of  the  Federal  Constitution.  In  the  third  section  of 
the  sixth  article,  it  provides  that  "  no  religious  test  shall 
ever  be  required  as  a  qualification  to  any  office  or  public 
trust  under  the  United  States."  The  first  article  in  the 
amendments  directs  further  that  "  Congress  shall  make  no 
law  respecting  an  establishment  of  religion,  or  prohibiting 
the  free  exercise  thereof."  The  author  finds  what  he  sup 
poses  to  be  the  true  interpretation  of  these  clauses  by  a 
reference  to  the  "test-laws"  of  England.  He  thinks  they 
were  simply  designed  to  guard  the  religions  affected  by 
those  laws,  and  were  not  intended  to  look  beyond  them  : 
that  in  thus  affording  protection  to  u  the  Congregational- 
ists,  the  Dutch  Reformed,  the  Scotch  and  English  Presby 
terians,  the  German  Lutherans,  the  Friends  or  Quakers, 
the  Baptists,  the  Methodists,  the  Roman  Catholics,  and 
the  Episcopalians,"  giving  to  neither  one  supremacy  over 
the  rest,  all  was  accomplished  that  was  in  the  view  of  the 
framers  of  the  Constitution ;  that  the  framers  of  the  Con 
stitution  did  not  "  unite  to  patronize  infidelity,  to  nullify 
the  very  oath  which  they  were  so  careful  to  require,  and  to 
give  the  same  political  confidence  to  those  who  vilified  as 
to  those  who  reverenced  the  common  religion  of  the  land." 


THE  AMERICAN  CITIZEN.  77 

Let  us  get  rid,  in  advance,  of  the  odium  of  this  argu 
ment.  An  appeal  to  prejudices  never  serves  to  enlighten 
the  mind.  It  was  certainly  not  the  intention  of  the  framers 
of  the  Constitution  to  patronize  or  foster  infidelity.  They 
had  no  such  aim.  They  neither  desired  to  do  so  by  openly 
bestowing  reivards  upon  avowed  infidels,  nor  by  encour 
aging  a  semi-infidelity  by  conferring  gifts  and  capabilities 
upon  quasi  Christians  which  others  did  not  enjoy.  They 
ignored  altogether  a  man's  religious  belief;  and  while  re 
fusing,  on  the  one  hand,  to  give  premiums  to  the  avowants 
of  religious  belief,  on  the  other,  they  also  refused  to  annex 
disabilities  to  the  absence  of  all  religious  belief.  This  is 
the  obvious  and  palpable  construction  of  the  language  used 
in  the  Constitution ;  and  it  would  violate  the  rules  of  fail- 
interpretation,  and  tend  to  confound  the  plain  meaning  of 
well-settled  terms — indeed,  it  would  destroy  all  confidence 
in  all  interpretations — if  such  language  may  be  tortured 
into  a  different  and  variant  construction.  The  article  in 
the  Constitution,  as  first  propounded,  looked,  we  admit, 
simply  to  the  "  test"  acts,  but  it  was  to  meet  and  supply 
the  very  deficiency  of  this  article  that  the  amendment,  in 
larger  terms  and  of  more  comprehensive  import,  was  adopt 
ed.  "  Congress,"  it  declares,  "  shall  make  no  law  respect 
ing  an  establishment  of  religion,  or  prohibiting  the  free 
exercise  thereof."  Could  language  be  broader?  If  it  had 
been  designed  to  prohibit  laws  tolerating  any  other  forms 
of  belief  than  the  Christian  religion,  it  were  easy  to  have 
made  the  meaning  clear.  But  this  was  not  the  purpose. 
The  purpose  is  patent  on  the  face  of  the  amendment :  it 
embraced  every  form  of  religion ;  and,  on  the  one  hand, 
negatived  the  right  to  establish  any,  and,  on  the  other, 
cut  off  the  right  to  prohibit  any.  Nor  will  it  sufiice  to  an 
swer  this  view  by  the  remark  that  an  oath  is  required  to 


78  THE  RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS  OF 

support  this  Constitution,  and  that  the  taking  of  this  oath 
implies  a  reference  to  the  Christian  religion.  This  would 
be  a  forced  inference  even  were  it  true  that  this  taking  of 
an  oath  means  the  taking  of  an  oath  in  the  Christian 
sense.  But  it  is  very  far  from  being  true  that  oaths  are 
always  thus  administered  even  in  Christian  countries.  The 
law  books  tells  us  that  witnesses  are  to  be  sworn  according 
to  the  peculiar  ceremonies  of  their  own  religion,  and  in 
such  manner  as  they  may  deem  binding  on  their  own  con 
sciences.  This  was  a  part  of  the  civil  law,  and  is  as  well 
a  part  of  the  common  law.* 

In  England,  even  before  the  laws  removing  the  disabili 
ties  of  the  Jews,  they  were  allowed  to  sit  on  juries;  they 
were  sworn  as  jurors ;  the  oath  they  took  was  administered 
according  to  their  own  form  of  religious  belief,  and  was 
never  administered  as  a  Christian  oath.  It  is  so  here3 
And  while  we  will  acknowledge  that  in  some  of  the  courts 
of  the  country  a  belief  in  the  future  state  of  rewards  and 
punishments  has  been  deemed  essential  to  make  a  witness 
competent,  in  others  the  doctrine  has  been  repudiated.  If 
it  were  universally  adopted,  however,  it  would  not  answer 
the  purpose  of  the  author.  To  make  his  reasoning  even 
plausible,  the  oath  required  must  be  a  Christian  oath,  in 
form  and  in  belief;  the  deity  of  Christ,  and  the  inspira 
tion  of  the  New  Testament  Scriptures,  must  be  acknowl 
edged. 

Besides  the  fallacies  of  the  argument  which  we  have 
just  disclosed,  there  are  other  difficulties  which  the  inter 
pretation  of  Bishop  Hopkins  encounters.  A  simple  refer 
ence  to  the  names  of  the  Presidents  who  lived  contempo 
raneously  with  the  adoption  of  the  constitution,  some  of 
whom  labored  for  its  adoption  by  the  people,  will  scatter 
to  the  winds  the  interpretation  he  has  given.  Thomas 


THE  AMERICAN  CITIZEN.  79 

Jefferson  was  one  of  these :  John  Adams  was  another  ; 
the  latter  a  Unitarian,  the  former  a  nondescript,  (we  will 
not  call  him  an  infidel,  yet  we  know  no  other  name  by 
which  to  call  him.)  Now  neither  of  these  classes  do  we 
find  enumerated  by  Bishop  Hopkins  among  the  religious 
beliefs  the  exercise  of  which  is  protected  by  the  Constitu 
tion,  as  embraced  in  the  terms  of  admission  he  has  assigned. 
Does  not  the  interpretation  fail,  then,  in  an  essential  point  ? 
or,  does  Bishop  Hopkins  understand  the  provisions  of  the 
Constitution  better  than  Jefferson  and  Adams  ?  or,  worse 
still,  did  Jefferson  or  Adams,  in  taking  the  oath  to  support 
the  Constitution,  violate  its  spirit  in  the  act  of  taking  it  ? 
We  must  adopt  either  one  of  these  interpretations,  and 
we  confess  we  incline  to  adopt  any  interpretation  rather 
than  charge  Jefferson  and  Adams  with  ignorance  or  per 
jury.  Bishop  Hopkins  feels  the  force  of  this  objection, 
and  undertakes  to  prove  that  Jefferson  did  not  entertain 
infidel  sentiments,  and  cites  his  public  messages  to  disprove 
it.  Unfortunately  for  Jefferson's  memory  in  this  respect, 
letters  from  his  own  hand,  addressed  in  familiar  correspon 
dence  to  personal  friends,  in  which  he  would  be  most  apt 
to  reveal  his  true  sentiments,  disclose,  in  no  ambiguous 
terms,  the  views  he  entertained  of  the  Christian  religion. 
We  are  not  compelled  to  discredit  these  revelations,  as 
Bishop  Hopkins  suggests,  because  their  author  never  de 
signed  that  they  should  see  the  light.  For  that  very  rea 
son  they  are  entitled  to  the  more  credit.  In  the  familial- 
intercourse  between  man  and  man,  in  personal  correspon 
dence,  there  is  little  if  any  inducement  to  the  concealment 
of  personal  opinions  and  prejudices :  there  is,  too,  a  more 
full  unfolding  of  the  sentiments  and  character;  and  ac 
cordingly,  it  is  now  a  universally  established  canon  of  evi 
dence  that  such  revelations  are  to  have  greater  weight,  are 


so  THE  RP:LIGIOLTS  RIGHTS  OF 

to  be  more  relied  on  than  mere  public  displays.  But  we 
will  not  do  Mr.  Jefferson  the  injustice  to  say  that  there  is 
any  contrariety  between  his  public  messages  and  his  pri 
vate  correspondence.  There  is  nothing  in  the  former 
which  one  acknowledging  a  Deity,  as  he  did,  might  not 
have  used  without  creating  a  false  confidence  in  his  Chris 
tianity,  lie  professed  faith  in  Christianity  neither  in  pub 
lic  nor  in  private ;  and  his  public  displays  go  no  farther 
than  to  establish  his  belief  in  the  existence  of  a  Divine 
Being.  In  his  private  letters  he  does  not  deny  it.  Some 
thing  more  than  this  is  demanded  by  the  terms  of  admis 
sion  laid  down  by  Bishop  Hopkins.  The  constitutional 
requirement  of  the  oath  of  office,  he  contends,  is  a  Chris 
tian  oath  :  "No  man  can  take  the  oath  in  its  true  consti 
tutional  sense  unless  he  [is]  a  believer  in  the  essential 
truths  of  the  Christian  religion  as  revealed  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures."  Mr.  Jefferson  took  it.  Was  he  within  the 
terms?  So  did  Mr.  Adams.  Does  Bishop  Hopkins  regard 
the  deity  of  Christ  as  one  of  the  essential  truths  of  the 
Christian  religion  ?  If  he  does,  did  Mr.  Adams  come  up 
to  his  requirement  ?  or  did  he  in  violation  of  the  spirit  of 
the  Constitution  take  the  oath  of  office  !  Another  name 
among  the  Presidents,  whose  history  was  not  contempora 
neous  with  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution,  occurs  to  us 
as  one  of  the  insuperable  difficulties  the  Bishop's  interpre 
tation  encounters.  The  younger  Adams  was  not  a  be 
liever  in  the  Divinity  of  Christ.  He,  too,  must  be  num 
bered  among  those  who  violated  the  spirit  of  the  Constitu 
tion  in  taking  the  oath  of  office,  if  the  author's  interpreta 
tion  is  to  be  adopted. 

We  willingly  acquit  the  Bishop  of  Vermont  from  the 
charge  that  he  designed  to  introduce  into  the  practical  ad 
ministration  of  the  United  States  government  any  of  the 


THE  AMERICAN  CITIZEN.  81 

objectionable  features  we  have  shown  to  be  the  natural  and 
almost  inevitable  results  of  his  doctrines.  He  expressly 
disclaims  the  desire  to  unite  Church  and  State;  and  we 
are  satisfied  that  the  chapters  of  his  work  we  have  com 
mented  on  thus  freely  were  written  solely  for  the  purpose 
of  diffusing  the  spirit  of  true  Christianity  among  the  peo 
ple.  We  should  heartily  second  any  effort  the  result  of 
which  would  be  a  wider  and  deeper  interest  in  the  Chris 
tian  religion.  But  we  submit  that  it  is  neither  the  wisest 
nor  the  best  philosophy  which  makes  a  merely  nominal  pro 
fession  of  religious  faith  the  handmaid  to  earthly  distinc 
tion,  or  even  puts  into  the  hand  of  true  Christianity  the 
insignia  of  earthly  power.  Our  author,  and  those  who 
adopt  his  views,  may  disclaim  any  intention  to  unite  and 
blend  the  sovereignty  of  the  State  with  any  one  or  more  of 
the  forms  of  religion  ;  but  the  dangers  of  such  a  union  are 
too  great,  the  temptations  to  it  are  too  strong,  to  admit  of 
doubt,  that  in  the  end,  this  result  would  ensue,  were  his 
doctrines  embraced.  Strange  indeed  would  it  be  if  such 
a  result  should  be  traced  to  an  instrument  framed  by  its 
authors  for  preventing  this  very  consummation  ;  to  one 
which,  in  so  many  words,  declares  that  no  law  respecting 
an  establishment  of  religion,  or  prohibiting  the  free  exer 
cises  thereof,  shall  be  enacted. 

The  space  we  have  devoted  to  this  topic  forbids  our  fol 
lowing  the  author  into  other  fields  of  thought  he  has  ex 
plored,  the  ripe  fruits  of  which  he  has  gathered  for  his 
readers. 

It  affords  us  unmixed  satisfaction  to  bear  testimony 
to  the  justness  of  views  with  which  he  has  considered 
and  discussed  the  great  dividing  question  of  the  day. 
It  is  indeed  a  noteworthy  matter  that  a  Vermontese  Bishop 
should  have  taken  so  catholic  and  national  a  position  on 


82  THE  RELIGIOUS  RIGHTS,  &c. 

this  important  subject.  While  we  do  not  agree  with  every 
thing  he  has  written  upon  it,  we  yet  can  cheerfully  echo  in 
chief  part  his  sentiments.  An  analysis  of  his  eleventh 
chapter  sets  forth,  in  brief  compass,  his  opinions  on  this 
topic.  We  will  cite  it  for  the  benefit  of  our  readers : 

"The  rights  and  duties  of  the  American  citizen  with  regard  to 
slavery  : 

1.  He  has   a  right  to  his  personal  opinions.     But  he   has  no  right  to 
form  them  unfairly,  either   in  contempt  of  the   Bible,  or  of  the   senti 
ments  of  Christendom  for  eighteen  centuries 

2.  He  has  a  right  to  believe  that  although  slavery  be  lawful,  yet  it  is 
expedient  to   dispose  of  it  peacefully,  legally,  and  justly,  with  regard  to 
the  permanent  interests  of  the  South  and  all  the  parties.     But  he  has 
no  right  to  abuse  the  Constitution  or  trample  upon  the  law. 

3.  He  has  a   right  to  think   that  the  abolition  of  slavery  is   not  expe 
dient  j  but  he  has  no  right  to  threaten  a  dissolution  of  the  Union,  nor  to 
use  unlawful  violence  in  any  form  towards  those  who  differ  from  him. 
It  is  his  duty  to   be  just,  patient,  and  generous   towards  all  who  cannot 
see  'the  subject  in  the  same   aspect  as  himself.     It  is  also  his  duty  to 
support  the  law,  so  long  as  it  is   law,  because  the  resistance  of  the  law 
is  rebellion,  and  exposes  the  whole  land  to  anarchy  and  ruin.     It  is  his 
duty  to  guard  against  excitement,  and  to   remember  that  the  subject  of 
slavery  should  be  treated  with  a  sense  of  solemn  responsibility,  and  in 
the  spirit  of  patriotic  devotion  to  the  public  good." 

Such  sentiments  as  these  are  worthy  of  all  praise.  As 
"  words  fitly  spoken,  they  are  like  apples  of  gold  in  pic 
tures  of  silver." 


BLEDSOE  AND  STRINGFELLOW  ON  SLAVERY.* 

We  are  not  of  those  who  condemn  the  Higher  Law. 
We  believe  in  it.  That  is,  we  are  willing,  in  advance  and 
a  priori,  to  express  our  approval  of  any  set  of  opinions 
or  course  of  conduct  for  which  Bible  sanction  can  be  pro 
duced.  We  yield  implicitly  and  with  profound  homage  to 
a  "Thus  saith  the  Lord,"  whatever  its  teachings,  what 
ever  its  command ;  and  though  it  call  for  the  renuncia 
tion  of  the  most  dearly  cherished  opinions,  and  for  the 
sacrifice  of  the  most  deeply  important  interests,  even  of 
life  itself,  its  behests  we  are  willing  to  obey.  If,  then, 
the  Bible  sanctions  slavery,  we  will  commend  it:  if,  on 
the  contrary,  the  Bible  condemns  it,  and  teaches  that  it 
is  right  to  abolish  it  at  whatever  cost  of  money  or  of 
blood,  we  say  with  cheerfulness,  Let  the  will  of  the  Al 
mighty  be  accomplished :  let  his  injunctions  be  obeyed. 
In  the  discussion,  therefore,  of  the  slavery  question,  we 
place  ourselves  fairly  on  the  platform  which  the  Chris 
tian  of  either  section  of  the  Confederacy  should  desire, 
by  an  appeal  in  the  first  instance,  and  as  definitively  set- 

*  An  Essay  on  Liberty  and  Slavery.  By  ALBERT  TAYLOR  BLEDSOE,  LL.  D., 
Professor  of  Mathematics  in  the  University  of  Virginia.  Philadel 
phia:  J.  B.  Lippincott  &  Co.  1856. 

Scriptural  and  Statistical  Views  in  favor  of  Slavery.  By  THORNTON 
STRINGFELLOW,  D.D.  Fourth  edition,  with  additions.  J.  W.  Randolph. 
121  Main  street,  Richmond,  Va.  1856. 


84  THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY. 

tling  the  issue,  to  the  oracles  of  Jehovah.  What  do  they 
say  in  regard  to  the  subject  of  slavery  ?  what  do  they 
inculcate  as  applicable  to  this  institution  ?  what  course 
of  conduct  do  they  point  out  as  proper  where  it  exists? 

An  examination  of  these  writings  will  establish  that 
slavery  has  received  the  sanction  of  Jehovah  in  every 
period  of  which  they  treat :  "  by  express  command  under 
the  Patriarchal  age;  by  its  incorporation  into  the  law 
uttered  from  Sinai ;  and  by  its  legality  being  recognized 
and  its  relative  duties  being  regulated  by  Christ  and  his 
apostles.''* 

The  first  scriptural  passage  bearing  upon  this  subject 
is  found  in  Gen.  ix.  25-27.  It  is  the  declaration  of 
Noah  in  regard  to  his  sons  and  their  descendants: 
u  Cursed  be  Canaan  :  a  servant  of  servants  shall  he  be  to 
his  brethren.  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Shem  ;  and 
Canaan  shall  be  his  servant.  God  shall  enlarge  Japheth. 
and  he  shall  dwell  in  the  tents  of  Shem  ;  and  Canaan 
shallbe  his  servant,"  This  is  the  language  of  prophecy, 
doubtless ;  yet  it  is  the  language  of  a  father,  speaking 
in  explicit  arid  emphatic  terms  of  the  abject  bondage  of 
a  part  of  his  descendants  to  the  rest,  and,  without  inter 
posing  a  single  remonstrance,  uttering  the  will  of  the 
Almighty  with  implicit  obedience  and  cheerfulness. 
The  language  also  is  unaccompanied  by  any  denuncia 
tion  of  anger  or  wrath  upon  those  who  shall  hold  their 
brothers  in  bondage,  but  absolutely  blesses  them.  Not 
double-tongued,  but  singularly  emphatic,  is  his  first  decla 
ration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  concerning  the  institution 
of  slavery  .  If  it  be  allowed  to  speak  at  all,  it  speaks 
that  slavery,  even  slavery  among  brethren,  may  be  tole- 

*  Stnngfellow. 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY.  85 

rated,  yea,  enjoined  by  God.  In  the  language  of  Dr. 
String-fellow,  God  in  this  instance  decreed  slavery,  and 
•''shows  in  that  decree  tokens  of  good  will  to  the  mas 
ter."  Tracing  the  sacred  records  down  from  this  decla 
ration  of  Noah,  we  are  next  arrested  by  the  case  of 
Abraham.  Abraham,  the  father  of  the  faithful,  has 
had  many  unworthy  descendants,  who  have  been  proud 
to  call  him  father.  The  abolitionists  surely  will  not 
claim  any  relationship.  When  called  to  go  into  Canaan, 
the  narrative  informs  us,  Abraham  "  took  Sarai  his 
wife,  and  Lot,  his  brother's  son,  and  all  their  substance 
that  they  had  gathered,  and  the  souls  they  had  gotten  in 
Haran,  and  they  went  forth  to  go  into  the  land  of  Ca 
naan."  Gen.  12.  5.  Who  are  these  "  souls  he  had  gotten 
in  Haran?"  Slaves,  bought  with  Abraham's  money. 
So  the  ancient  Jewish  writers  say.  and  so  the  major  part 
of  Christian  commentators  agree.  Dr.  Bush,  however, 
expresses  no  positive  opinion  concerning  it,  but  simply 
affirms  that  by  Abraham's  "  making  souls,"  we  are  to 
understand  his  "  enlarging  his  household  establishment." 
This  enlargement  consisted,  doubtless,  of  the  addition  of 
slaves,  and  to  it  we  are  in  a  great  measure  to  trace  the 
astonishing  fact,  disclosed  to  us  in  Genesis  xiv.  14,  that 
when  Abram  "  heard  that  his  brother  was  taken  captive, 
he  armed  his  trained  servants,  born  in  his  oivn  house,  three 
hundred  and  eighteen,  and  pursued  them  [i.  e.,  the  cap 
tors  of  Lot]  unto  Dan."  These  "servants"  were  slaves, 
and  the  passage  should  so  have  been  translated.  Kitto 
estimates  that  in  order  to  furnish  this  quota  of  slaves 
able  to  bear  arms,  the  probability  is  that  Abram  was  the 
owner  of  four  times  the  number,  so  that  he  held  in  his 
own  right  in  bondage  upwards  of  twelve  hundred  slaves! 
Numerous  other  passages  occur  in  the  book  of  Genesis, 


86          THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY. 

referring  to  the  great  wealth  of  Abraham,  consisting  of 
silver  and  gold,  flocks  and  slaves;  so  that  one  has  pro 
perly  said  that  "  in  his  history,  the  existence  of  slavery 
meets  us  at  every  turn."  We  will  not  dwell  specially 
upon  these,  but  content  ourself  with  a  simple  reference 
to  the  following:  Gen.  xii.  15,  16:  xvii.  12,  13;  xx. 
14-16.  One  other  fact  connected  with  the  history  of 
slavery  in  Adam's  time  we  must  not  omit  to  notice.  It 
teaches  so  wholesome  a  lesson  to  modern  agitators,  that 
we  could  wish  it  engraven  in  golden  letters  upon  their 
frontlets.  Dr.  Stringfellow  has  stated  the  case  so  well 
in  his  little  work,  that  we  cannot  do  better  than  cite  his 
language : 

"  God  had  promised  Abraham's  seed  the  land  of  Canaan,  and  that 
in  his  seed  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  should  be  blessed.  He  reached 
the  age  of  eighty-five,  and  his  wife  the  age  of  seventy-five,  while  as 
yet  they  had  no  child.  At  this  period,  Sarah's  anxiety  for  the  promised 
seed,  in  connection  with  her  age,  induced  her  to  propose  a  female  slave, 
of  the  Egyptian  stock,  as  a  secondary  wife,  from  which  to  obtain  the 
promised  seed.  This  alliance  so  puffed  the  slave  with  pride,  that  she 
became  insolent  to  her  mistress:  the  mistress  complained  to  Abraham,' 
the  master.  Abraham  ordered  Sarah  to  exercise  her  authority.  Sarah 
did  so,  and  pushed  it  to  severity,  and  the  slave  absconded.  The  Divine 
oracles  informs  us  that  the  angel  of  God  found  this  runaway  bond-wo 
man  in  the  wilderness;  and  if  God  had  commissioned  this  angel  to 
improve  this  opportunity  of  teaching  the  world  how  much  he  abhorred 
slavery,  he  took  a  bad  plan  to  accomplish  it.  For,  instead  of  repeating 
a  homily  upon  doing  to  others  as  we  '  would  they  should  do  unto  us,' 
and  heaping  reproach  upon  Sarah  as  a  hypocrite  and  Abraham  as  a 
tyrant,  and  giving  Hagar  direction  how  she  might  get  into  Egypt,  from 
whence  (according  to  abolitionism)  she  had  been  unrighteously  sold 
into  bondage,  the  angel  addressed  her  as  'Hagar,  Sarah's  maid,'  (Gen. 
xvi.  1,  9.)  thereby  recognizing  the  relation  of  master  and  slave,  and 
asks  her,  'Whither  wilt  thou  go  ?  And  she  said,  '  I  flee  from  the  face 
of  my  mistress.'  Quite  a  wonder  she  honored  Sarah  so  much  as  to  call 
her  mistress.  But  she  knew  nothing  of  abolition,  and  God,  by  his 
angel,  did  not  become  her  teacher. 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY.  87 

"  We  have  now  arrived  at  what  may  be  called  an  abuse  of  the  in 
stitution  in  which  one  person  is  the  property  of  another,  and  under 
their  control  and  subject  to  their  authority  without  their  consent;  and 
if  the  Bible  be  the  book  which  proposes  to  furnish  the  case  which 
leaves  it  without  doubt  that  God  abhors  the  institution,  here  we  are  to 
look  at  it.  What,  therefore,  is  the  doctrine  in  relation  to  slavery,  in  a 
case  in  which  the  rigid  exercise  of  its  arbitrary  authority  is  called  forth 
upon  a  helpless  female,  who  might  use  a  strong  plea  for  protection, 
upon  the  ground  of  being  the  master's  wife?  In  the  face  of  this  case 
which  is  hedged  around  with  aggravations,  as  if  God  designed  by  it  to 
awaken  all  the  sympathy  and  all  the  abhorrence  of  that  portion  of 
mankind  who  claim  to  have  more  mercy  than  God  himself — but,  I  say, 
in  view  of  this  strong  case,  what  is  the  doctrine  taught  ?  Is  it  that  God 
abhors  the  institution  of  slavery  ;  that  it  is  a  reproach  to  good  men  . 
that  the  evils  of  the  institution  can  no  longer  be  winked  at  among 
saints;  that  Abraham's  character  must  not  be  transmitted  to  posterity 
with  this  stain  upon  it ;  that  Sarah  must  no  longer  be  allowed  to  live 
a  stranger  to  the  abhorrence  God  has  for  such  conduct  as  she  has  been 
guilty  of  to  this  poor  helpless  female  ?  I  say,  what  is  the  doctrine 
taught?  Is  it  so  plain  that  it  can  be  easily  understood  ;  and  does  God 
teach  that  she  is  a  bond-woman  or  slave,  and  that  she  is  to  recognize 
Sarah  as  her  mistress,  and  not  her  equal ;  tliat  she  must  return  and 
submit  herself  unreservedly  to  Sarah's  authority?  Judge  for  yourself, 
reader,  by  the  angel's  answer:  'And  the  angel  of  the  Lord  said  unto 
her,  Return  unto  thy  mistress,  and  submit  thyself  unto  her  hands.' 
Gen.  xvi.  9." 


We  have  already  sufficiently  established  the  Divine 
sanction  of  slavery  during  the  Patriarchal  age  by  the 
proof  that  Abraham,  while  enjoying  the  Divine  appro 
bation  and  favor,  was  a  slaveholder.  But  we  may  go 
farther,  and  show  that  this  very  relation  was  recognized 
and  blessed  in  the  covenant  which  God  made  with  Abra 
ham.  Not  that  God  made  the  covenant  with  Abraham 
and  his  servants,  (for  that  we  should  find  no  warrant  in 
the  scriptural  writings,)  but  that  he  designed  and  di 
rected  that  the  token  of  this  covenant  should  be  placed 
upon  every  servant  "that  was  born  in  his  house,  and  upon 


88  THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY". 

him  that  was  bought  with  his  money  "  Gen.  xvli.  13. 
This  was  something  more  than  a  bare  permission  to  enjoy 
the  service  of  his  slaves  during  life. 

Abraham  died  as  he  had  lived,  a  rich  man,  with  flocks 
and  herds,  possessed  of  silver  and  gold,  and  men-servants 
and  maid-servants,  and  camels,  and  asses.  The  Lord  had 
blessedhim,  and  gave  him  all  these;  (Gen.  xxiv.  35;)  had 
blessed  him  in  giving  to  him  slaves.  Before  his  death,  the 
old  man  bethought  him  of  the  "son  of  promise,"  and  de 
sired  that  Isaac  should  not  take  a  wife  of  the  daughters  of 
the  Canaanites,  but  should  marry  one  of  his  own  country 
and  his  own  kindred,  So  Abraham  called  unto  him  his  eldest 
servant,  and  required  that  he  should  "make  oath  that  it 
should  be  as  he  had  desired."  The  servant  having  taken 
the  oath,  departed  into  that  country  in  search  of  the  wife. 
The  story  is  one  of  those  beautifully  touching  episodes  in 
familiar  oriental  life  which  render  the  Bible  attractive  to 
men  of  taste,  and  instructive  and  interesting  to  all.  It  is 
familiar,  yet  we  cannot  forbear  painting  the  prominent 
features.  The  purpose  of  the  mission  was  accomplished. 
Rebekah  accompanies  the  messenger.  And  as  Isaac  went 
out  into  the  fields  at  eventide  to^  meditate,  he  saw  afar  off 
the  faithful  servant  returning  with  his  camels.  Beside  him 
there  walks  a  veiled  female — the  wife  whom  the  servant 
had  been  sent  after.  "  And  Isaac  brought  her  in  to  his 
mother  Sarah's  tent,  and  took  Rebekah,  and  she  became 
his  wife,  and  he  loved  her ;  and  Isaac  was  comforted  after 
his  mother's  death."  The  faithful  servant  had  discharged 
his  oath.  How  had  he  discharged  it  ?  Read  the  statement 
he -makes  to  Rebekah's  parents,  and  you  will  discover  the 
purpose  for  which  this  narrative  has  been  cited.  When 
bidden  to  speak  his  errand,  he  begins  :  "  I  am  Abraham's 
servant.  And  the  Lord  hath  blessed  my  master  greatly, 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY.  80 

and  he  is  become  great ;  and  he  hath  given  him  flocks  and 
herds,  and  silver  and  gold,  and  men-servants  and  maid 
servants,  and  camels  and  asses.  And  Sarah,  my  master's 
wife,  bare  a  son  to  my  master  when  she  was  old  ;  and  unto 
him  [i.  e.,  Isaac]  hath  he  given  all  that  he  hath."  The 
remaining  portion  of  the  statement  may  be  found  in  Gen. 
xxiv.  37-50.  Now,  whether  or  not  Rebekah  was  urged 
by  this  feature  of  the  narrative  to  make  the  prompt  de 
cision  she  did  make,  when  asked  if  she  would  go  with  the 
man,  we  will  not  take  it  upon  ourselves  to  determine. 
Certain  it  is,  neither  her  parents  nor  herself  objected  to 
Isaac  that  he  had  inherited  his  father's  slaves  along  with 
his  silver  and  gold,  his  flocks  and  herds,  and  camels  and 
asses.  So  Isaac,  too,  was  a  slaveholder — Isaac,  the  son  of 
promise,  whom  God  blessed,  and  to  whom  he  declared  at 
Gerar,  "  I  will  make  thy  seed  to  multiply  as  the  stars  of 
heaven,  and  will  give  unto  thy  seed  all  these  countries,  and 
in  thy  seed  shall  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  be  blessed  ; 
because  that  Abraham  obeyed  my  voice,  and  kept  my  charge, 
my  commandments,  my  statutes,  and  my  laws."  Gen. 
xxvi.  4,  5.  Here  we  have  a  double  sanction  of  slavery, 
declared  in  explicit  terms,  in  the  blessing  of  a  slaveholder, 
the  son  of  a  slaveholder,  of  whom  it  is  said,  "  He  hath 
kept  God's  charge,  and  commandments,  and  statutes,  and 
lav.s  !"  Could  language  be  more  emphatic  or  more  com 
prehensive  ?  Would  a  modern  abolitionist  echo  this  bless 
ing  in  terms,  or  even  utter  a  feeble  Amen  to  it? 

Passing  over  a  period  of  several  centuries,  from  the 
time  that  Jehovah  meets  and  blesses  Isaac  in  Gerar  to 
the  delivery  of  the  law  from  Sinai,  we  shall  hear  the  same 
God,  from  the  thunders  and  lightnings  of  that  mountain, 
as  he  proclaims  his  will  to  his  people,  declare,  side  by 
side  with  the  commandment,  "  Thou  Shalt  not  bear  false 
6 


00  THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY. 

witness  against  thy  neighbor/'  this  other  commandment, 
"  Thou  shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor's  house,  thou  shalt 
not  covet  thy  neighbor's  wife,  nor  his  man-servant,  nor  his 
maid-servant,  nor  his  ox,  nor  his  ass,  nor  any  thing  that 
is  thy  neighbor's."  The  God  of  Gerar  and  the  God  of 
Sinai  speak  the  same  voice.  He  is  consistent  with  him 
self.  He  that  blessed  Isaac  in  his  possessions  as  a  slave 
holder,  enjoins  on  the  descendants  of  Isaac  in  respect 
alike  to  a  man's  wife,  and  his  man-servants  and  maid-ser 
vants,  not  only  that  they  should  not  be  stolen,  but  that  they 
should  not  be  coveted ! 

We  are  not  surprised  to  find,  in  the  laws  promulgated 
by  the  Divine  Author  of  the  Decalogue,  such  passages  as 
these : 

"Both  thy  bondmen,  and  bondmaids,  which  thou  shalt  have,  shall  be 
of  the  heathen  that  are  around  about  you;  of  them  shall  >e  buy  bond 
men  and  bondmaids.  Moreover,  of  the  children  of  the  strangers  that 
do  sojourn  among  you,  of  them  shall  ye  buy.  and  of  their  families  that 
are  with  you,  which  they  begat  in  your  land;  and  they  shall  be  your 
possession.  And  ye  shall  take  them  as  an  inheritance  for  your  children 
after  you,  to  inherit  them  for  a  possession:  they  shall  be  your  bondmen  for 
ever;  but  over  your  brethren,  the  children  of  Israel,  ye  shall  not  rule  one 
over  another  with  rigor."  Lev.  xxv.  44-46. 

"  If  thy  brother  that  dwelleth  by  thee  be  waxen  poor,  and  be  sold 
unto  thee,  thou  shalt  not  compel  him  to  serve  as  a  bond-servant,  but  as 
a  hired  servant;  and  as  a  sojourner  he  shall  be  with  thee,  and  shall 
serve  thee  until  the  year  of  jubilee,  and  then  he  shall  depart  from  thee, 
both  he  and  his  children  with  them,  and  shall  return  unto  his  own 
family,  and  unto  the  possession  of  his  fathers  shall  he  return.  For 
they  are  my  servants  which  I  brought  forth  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt ; 
they  shall  not  be  sold  as  bondmen.  Thou  shalt  not  rule  over  him  with 
rigor,  but  shalt  fear  thy  God."  Lev.  xxv.  39-43. 

"If  thou  buy  a  Hebrew  servant,  six  years  he  shall  serve:  and  in  the 
seventh  he  shall  go  out  free  for  nothing.  If  he  came  in  by  himself,  he 
shall  go  out  by  himself;  if  he  were  married,  then  his  wife  shall  go  out 
with  him.  If  his  master  have  given  him  a  wife,  and  she  have  borne 
him  sons  or  daughters,  the  wife  and  her  children  shall  be  her  master's 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY.  91 

and  he  shall  go  out  by  himself.  And  if  the  servant  shall  plainly  say, 
I  love  my  master,  my  wife,  and  my  children:  I  will  not  go  out  free; 
then  his  master  shall  bring  him  unto  the  judges:  he  shall  also  bring 
him  to  the  door  or  unto  the  door-post;  and  his  master  shall  bore  his  ear 
through  with  an  awl ;  and  he  shall  serve  him  forever."  Exod.  xxi.  2—6. 

These  were  the  statutes  which  the  Divine  Being  or 
dained  for  the  government  of  his  peculiar  people.  They 
are  the  emanation  of  his  wisdom  and  will  concerning  them. 
They  contain  the  most  emphatic  endorsement  and  sanc 
tion  of  the  right  of  property  in  man.  This  point  cannot 
be  more  satisfactorily  sustained  than  by  the  simple  cita 
tion  of  such  language  as  this.  It  will  be  enough  for  the 
purposes  of  Southern  slavery  if  the  statutes  we  have  cited, 
and  other  citations  made,  establish  that  slavery  is  not  a 
malum  in  se — is  not  an  absolute  and  universal  evil.2 

The  testimony  which  the  New  Testament  Scriptures  fur 
nish  on  the  subject  of  slavery  as  a  Divinely  ordained  in 
stitution,  is  not,  we  are  free  to  admit,  of  so  emphatic  a 
character  as  that  furnished  by  the  Old.  But  there  is 
nothing  in  the  New  Testament  writings  which  would  in 
duce  an  impartial  exarninant  to  modify  the  views  he  would 
derive  from  searching  the  Old.  It  cannot  be  doubted 
that  the  question  of  slavery  was  presented  as  a  practical 
question  to  the  Saviour.  It  was  all  around  and  about 
him — in  Galilee,  and  Samaria,  and  Judea.  Slavery  in 
every  form,  we  are  told,  was  abundant  in  that  age.  The 
sight  of  a  slave  was  a  much  more  familiar  sight  to  Christ 
than  to  a  modern  abolitionist.  Our  Saviour  himself  not 
unfrequently  refers  to  the  relation  of  master  and  slave,  to 
enforce  his  lessons  upon  the  people.  Many  of  his  most 
impressive  parables  were  drawn  from  it.  In  many  of  his 
discourses  he  alludes  to  it.  While  we  would  not,  perhaps, 
be  justified  in  saying  that  these  allusions  to  and  use  of  this 


92  THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY. 

relation  express  a  full  sanction  of  slavery,  yet  it  can  hardly 
be  imagined  that  if  it  were  a  malum  in  se,  a  gross  moral 
wrong  to  hold  slaves  in  bondage,  the  Saviour  would  so 
have  referred  to  it.  As  was  properly  remarked  by  a 
learned  divine,  if  the  Saviour  had  deemed  slavery  a  hein 
ous  sin,  a  moral  wrong  semper  et  ubique,  he  would  surely 
have  made  a  different  use  of  it.  To  instance :  In  the  case 
of  the  parable  of  the  ten  talents,  instead  of  comparing  the 
relation  we  sustain  as  servants  to  our  Heavenly  Master  to 
the  relation  subsisting  between  the  lord  and  his  servants, 
he  would  doubtless  have  drawn  therefrom  a  lesson  which, 
being  translated,  would  run  thus:  "If,  in  a  relation  which 
is  the  mere  result  of  brute  force,  without  right,  and  sinful 
on  the  part  of  the  master,  the  master  expects  and  enforces 
implicit  obedience,  and  the  use  of  all  the  talents  and  capa 
bilities  of  his  slaves,  how  much  more  should  God,  your 
Creator,  and  Maker,  and  rightful  master,  expect  and  en 
force  such  obedience  from  his  creatures!"  In  the  holy 
writings  we  nowhere  have  any  such  argument  adduced,  or 
any  the  remotest  implication  that  the  existence  of  slavery 
was  itself  wrong,  or  the  result  of  wrong.  Everywhere  it 
is  dealt  with  as  if  it  were  right  and  expedient.  There  is 
a  slavery  denounced,  but  it  is  the  slavery  of  the  soul  to 
sin;  and  freedom  from  that  is  spoken  of  a  blessing.  Of 
that  slavery,  Christ  and  his  apostles  were  not  chary  in  de 
claring  its  abomination  in  the  sight  of  God  and  of  holy 
men.  One  instance  only  have  we  in  the  New  Testament 
in  which  the  practical  question  as  to  the  right  of  the  master 
over  the  slave  arose  for  the  consideration  of  an  inspired 
apostle,  and  in  that  case  the  course  pursued  is  in  exact 
conformity  with  the  conduct  of  the  angel  in  the  case  of 
Hagar.  Our  readers  will  understand  that  we  allude  to 
Onesimus.  Paul's  letter  to  Philemon,  sent  by  this  slave, 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY.  93 

is  a  brief  but  complete  and  satisfactory  exposition  of  the 
duty  of  both  master  and  servant  in  the  contingency  for 
which  it  was  written.  The  epistle  would  seem  to  have  been 
preserved  among  the  inspired  records  to  condemn  the  con 
duct  of  modern  agitators,  who  verily  think  they  do  God 
service  by  breaking  his  laws  and  robbing  their  neighbors. 
We  shall  cite  the  entire  letter  : 


"Paul,  a  prisoner  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  Timothy  our  brother,  unto 
Philemon  our  dearly  beloved,  and  fellow-laborer,  and  to  our  beloved  Ap- 
phia,  and  Archippus  our  fellow-soldier,  and  to  the  church  in  thy  house  : 
Grace  to  you,  and  peace  from  God  our  Father,  and  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ.  I  thank  my  God,  making  mention  of  thee  always  in  my  prayers; 
hearing  of  thy  love  and  faith,  which  them  hast  toward  the  Lord  Jesus, 
and  toward  all  saints:  that  the  communication  of  thy  faith  may  become 
effectual  by  the  acknowledging  of  every  good  thing  which  is  in  you  in 
Christ  Jesus.  For  we  have  great  joy  and  consolation  in  thy  love,  be 
cause  the  bowels  of  the  saints  are  refreshed  by  thee,  brother.  Where 
fore,  though  I  might  be  much  bold  in  Christ  to  enjoin  thee  that  which 
is  convenient,  yet  for  love's  sake  I  rather  beseech  thee,  being  such  an 
one  as  Paul  the  aged,  and  now  also  a  prisoner  of  Jesus  Christ.  I  be 
seech  thee  for  my  son  Onesimus,  whom  I  have  begotten  in  my  bonds  : 
which  in  time  past  was  to  thee  unprofitable,  but  now  profitable  to  thee 
and  to  me:  whom  I  have  sent  again;  thou  therefore  receive  him,  that 
is,  mine  own  bowels:  whom  I  would  have  retained  with  me,  that  in 
thy  stead  he  might  have  ministered  unto  me  in  the  bonds  of  the  gospel; 
but  without  thy  mind  would  I  do  nothing;  that  thy  benefit  should  not 
be  as  it  were  of  necessity,  but  willingly.  For  perhaps  he  therefore  de 
parted  for  a  season,  that  thou  shouldest  receive  him  for  ever:  not  now 
as  a  servant,  but  above  a  servant,  a  brother  beloved,  specially  to  me, 
but  how  much  more  unto  thee,  both  in  the  flesh  and  in  the  Lord?  If 
thou  count  me  therefore  a  partner,  receive  him  as  myself.  If  he  hath 
wronged  thee,  or  oweth  thee  aught,  put  that  on  mine  account:  I  Paul 
have  written  it  with  mine  own  hand,  I  will  repay  it :  albeit  I  do  not 
say  to  thee  how  thou  owest  unto  me  even  thine  own  self  besides.  Yea, 
brother,  let  me  have  joy  of  thee  in  the  Lord:  refresh  my  bowels  in  the 
Lord.  Having  confidence  in  thy  obedience,  I  wrote  unto  thee.  knowing 
that  thou  wilt  also  do  more  than  I  say.  But  withal  prepare  me  also  a 
lodging;  for  I  trust  that  through  your  prayers  I  shall  be  given  unto  you, 


01  THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY. 

There  salute  thee  Epaphras,  my  fellow-prisoner  in  Christ  Jesus;  Mar 
cus,  Aristarchus,  Deinas,  Lucas,  my  fellow  laborers.  The  grace  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  be  with  your  spirit.  Amen. 

If  aoolitionists  had  an  index  expurgatorius,  we  fancy  this 
epistle  would  head  the  list.  And  there  are  also  other  pas 
sages  of  the  New  Testament  which,  in  all  probability,  they 
would  gladly  expunge.  We  allude  to  those  in  which  the 
duties  of  this  relation  are  explained;  in  which  the  servant 
is  enjoined  to  obedience — an  obedience  which  should  not 
be  marked  by  mere  eye-service,  but  obedience  from  the 
heart,  an  obedience  which  is  to  be  rendered  to  the  froward 
as  well  as  to  the  good  and  gentle  ma.  ter.  They  are  such 
is  s  these : 

"  Servants,  be  obedient  to  them  that  are  your  masters  according  to  the 
flesh,  with  fear  and  trembling,  in  singleness  of  your  heart,  as  unto 
Christ;  not  with  eye-service,  as  men-pleasers  ;  but  as  the  servants  of 
Christ,  doing  the  will  of  God  from  the  heart;  with  good  will  doing  ser 
vice,  as  to  the  Lord,  and  not  to  men;  knowing  that  whatsoever  good 
thing  any  man  doeth,  the  same  he  shall  receive  of  the  Lord,  whether 
he  be  bond  or  free."  Eph.  vi.  5-8. 

"  Servants,  obey  in  all  things  your  masters  according  to  the  flesh  ; 
not  with  eye-service,  as  men-pleasers;  but  in  singleness  of  heart,  fear 
ing  God  ;  and  whatsoever  ye  do,  do  it  heartily,  as  to  the  Lord  and  not 
unto  men/'  Col.  iii.  22,  23. 

"  Let  as  many  servants  as  are  under  the  yoke  count  their  own  mas- 
blasphemed.  And  they  that  have  believing  masters,  let  them  not  des 
pise  them,  because  they  are  brethren,  but  rather  do  them  service,  be 
cause  they  are  faithful  and  beloved,  partakers  of  the  benefit."  1  Tim. 
vi.  1,  2. 

•' Exhort  servants  to  be  obedient  unto  their  own  masters,  and  to  please 
them  well  in  all  things;  not  answering  again;  not  purloining,  but 
showing  all  good  fidelity,  that  they  may  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  our 
Saviour  in  all  things."  Titus  ii.  9,  10. 

"Servants,  be  subject  to  your  masters  with  all  fear;  not  only  to  the 
good  and  gentle,  but  also  to  the  froward."  1  Pet.  ii.  IS. 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY.  95 

It  is  in  vain  that  such  passages  are  sought  to  be  per 
verted  from  their  plain  and  obvious  effect.  They  clearly 
and  certainly  i  ecognize  the  relation  as  existent  and  in  full 
force,  and  as  creating  the  obligation  of  hearty  obedience 
on  the  part  of  the  servant  to  his  own  master,  "not  to  all 
men,  or  to  the  masters  of  other  slaves."  "  This  duty  of 
obedience  does  depend  on  the  justice  of  the  authority 
which  the  master  claims."3  While  commanding  the  slaves 
to  obey,  the  apostles  do  not  forget  the  masters  in  the  dis 
tribution  of  their  precepts.  Masters  are  enjoined  to  "for 
bear  threatening,"  (Eph.  vi.  9,)  and  "  to  render  to  their 
servants  what  is  just  and  equal."  Col.  iv.  1.  This  seems 
to  be  the  extent  of  the  apostolic  injunctions  to  masters. 
The  Christian  master  is  not  commanded  to  manumit  his 
slaves,  but  to  treat  them  well.  Does  this  evidence  an  opin 
ion  on  the  part  of  the  apostle  that  slavery  was  a  "  heinous 
sin  ?"  If  that  had  been  the  case,  would  not  the  injunction 
to  manumit  have  been  given  ?  In  the  absence  of  such  an 
injunction,  are  we  not  warranted  in  saying  that  the 
apostle  did  not  so  regard  it,  but,  contrariwise,  deemed  the 
relation  in  itself  a  moral  and  lawful  one,  and  therefore 
undertook  to  regulate  the  reciprocal  duties  of  the  Chris 
tian  master  and  Christian  slave  ?  If  there  be  any  flaw  in 
this  reasoning,  we  are  unable  to  detect  it,  and  we  are  sin 
cerely  anxious  to  know  what  the  Scriptures  do  leach  on 
this  subject.  What  we  said  at  the  beginning,  we  repeat 
here :  if  the  oracles  of  Jehovah  teach  that  slavery  is  a 
moral  wrong,  semper  et  ubique,  at  all  times  and  in  all 
places,  and  that  it  ought  to  be  abolished,  at  whatever  cost 
of  money  or  of  blood,  the  commands  of  Jehovah  ought  to 
be  obeyed.  But  if  tney  do  teach,  as  we  think  they  do, 
that  slavery  is  a  lawful  institution,  not  in  itself  s.nful,  and 
that  its  continuance  and  existence  are  allowable,  in  con- 


96  THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY. 

formity  to  the  Divine  will,  then  it  is  alike  the  duty  of  the 
Christian  to  submit  his  own  will  and  his  own  prejudices  to 
the  teachings  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.* 


*  It  may  not  be  amiss  to  refer,  in  this  connection,  to  the  following  re 
marks  submitted  in  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  by  Mr.  Benton,  in 
1829.  The)''  contain  an  ample  vindication  of  the  position  assumed  in 
the  text,  and  are  themselves  an  eloquent  exposition  of  the  manner  in 
which  Christ  and  his  apostles  dealt  with  the  subject  of  slavery.  u  Sir," 
said  Mr.  B.,  "I  regard  with  admiration,  that  is  to  say,  with  wonder,  the 
sublime  morality  of  those  who  cannot  bear  the  abstract  contemplation 
of  slavery  at  the  distance  of  five  hundred  or  a  thousand  miles  off.  It 
is  entirely  above,  that  is  to  say,  it  affects  a  vast  superiority  over  the 
morality  of  the  primitive  Christians,  the  apostles  of  Christ,  and  Christ 
himself.  Christ  and  the  apostles  appeared  in  a  province  of  the  Roman 
empire,  when  that  empire  was  called  the  Roman  world,  and  that  world 
was  filled  with  slaves.  Forty  millions  was  the  estimated  number,  being 
one-fourth  of  the  whole  population.  Single  individuals  held  twenty 
thousand  slaves.  A  freed  man,  who  had  himself  been  a  slave,  died 
the  possessor  of  four  thousand :  such  were  the  numbers.  The  right  of 
the  owners  over  this  multitude  of  human  beings  was  that  of  life  and 
death,  without  protection  from  law  or  mitigation  from  public  sentiment. 
The  scourge,  the  cross,  the  fish-pond,  the  clen  of  the  wild  beast,  and  the 
arena  of  the  gladiator,  was  the  lot  of  the  slave,  upon  the  slightest  ex 
pression  of  the  master's  will.  A  law  of  incredible  atrocity  made  all 
slaves  responsible  with  their  own  lives  for  the  life  of  their  master  :  it 
was  the  law  that  condemned  the  whole  household  of  slaves  to  death, 
in  case  of  the  assassination  of  the  master-  a  law  under  which  as  many 
as  four  hundred  have  been  executed  at  a  time.  And  these  slaves  were 
the  white  people  of  Europe  and  of  Asia  Minor,  the  Greeks  and  other 
nations,  from  whom  the  present  inhabitants  of  the  world  derive  the  most 
valuable  productions  of  the  human  mind.  Christ  saw  all  this:  the  num 
ber  of  the  slaves;  their  hapless  condition;  and  their  white  color,  which 
was  the  same  with  his  own  ;  yet  he  said  nothing  against  slavery;  he 
preached  no  doctrines  which  led  to  insurrection  and  massacre;  none 
which,  in  their  application  to  the  state  of  things  in  our  country,  would 
authorize  an  inferior  race  of  blacks  to  exterminate  that  superior  race  of 
whites,  in  whose  ranks  he  himself  appeared  upon  earth.  He  preached 
no  such  doctrines,  but  those  of  a  contrary  tenor,  which  inculcated  the 
duty  of  fidelity  and  obedience  on  the  part  of  the  slave,  humanity  and 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY.          97 

In  view  of  such  overwhelming  testimony  afforded  by 
these  scriptures  of  the  Divine  approbation  of  slavery,  can 
it  be  credited  that  they  are  appealed  to  as  condemning  it  ? 
Yet  it  is  even  so.  Many  of  the  bitterest  opponents  of 
slavery  declare  their  opposition  to  it  because  it  is  incon 
sistent  with  the  will  of  God  as  set  forth  in  the  Bible. 
Tney  read  there  a  law  which  says,  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself;"  and  again,  "All  things  whatsoever 
ye  would  that  men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  even  so  to 
them."  They  discover  in  these  two  precepts  a  principle 
diametrically  opposed  to  slavery.  One  of  these  has  said — 
"  Were  this  precept  [the  one  last  cited]  obeyed,  it  is  man 
ifest  that  slavery  could  not  in  fact  exist  for  a  single  instant. 
The  principle  of  the  precept  is  absolutely  subversive  of  the 
principle  of  slavery."  This  is  one  of  the  strongholds  of  the 
anti-slavery  advocate;  and  if  we  compel  him  to  surrender  it, 
we  shall  have  gone  far  to  convert  him  to  the  truth.  The 
answer  we  think  is  complete.  Jesus  Christ  declared  of  the 
"law"  that  its  essence  was  contained  in  two  items — su 
preme  love  to  God,  and  love  to  one's  neighbor:  "  Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  soul, 
and  strength,  and  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.  On  these  two 
commandments  hang  all  the  law  and  the  prophets."  This 
"law"  of  which  the  Saviour  spake  embraced  the  law  of 
the  Decalogue,  from  which  we  have  before  cited,  and  in 
wnich,  as  we  have  seen,  slavery  is  protected,  and  the  in 
junction  is  given,  "  Thou  shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor's 
wife,  nor  his  man-servant,  nor  his  maid-servant,  nor  his 

kindness  on  the  part  of  the  master.  His  apostles  did  the  same.  St. 
Paul  sent  back  a  runaway  slave,  Onesimus,  to  his  owner,  with  a  letter 
of  apology  and  supplication.  He  was  not  the  man  to  harbor  a  runa 
way,  much  less  to  entice  him  from  his  master;  and,  least  of  all.  to  ex 
cite  an  insurrection." 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY. 

ox,  nor  his  ass,  nor  any  thing  that  is  thy  neighbor  s" 
Can  it  be  possible  that  the  Lawgiver  of  Sinai  and  Christ 
are  at  issue  ?  When  Christ  declares  that  the  two  princi 
ples  of  supreme  love  to  God  and  love  to  one's  neighbor 
embraced  the  whole  law,  did  he  mean  to  say  that  they 
embodied  a  part  and  not  the  whole  of  it  ?  Still  worse,  did 
he  mean  that  one  of  those  principles  conflicted  with  the 
law  ?  Did  he  mean  that  if  the  whole  of  that  law  were  pro 
mulgated,  this  principle,  "Love  your  neighbor  as  your 
self,"  would  be  utterly  subversive  of  an  institution  which 
the  law,  in  one  of  its  items,  was  designed  to  protect  and 
secure  ?  We  might  rest  the  question  here,  and  leave  it  to 
the  objector  to  set  at  rights  this  manifest  division  between 
the  pei  sons  of  the  Holy  Trinity  which  his  declaration  pro 
duces.  If  it  be  true,  as  he  says  it  is  true,  that  the  principle  of 
slavery  and  the  Bible  principle  of  love  to  one's  neighbor 
are  antagonistic,  then  there  is  no  escape  from  the  conclu 
sion  that  the  God  of  Sinai  and  the  Christ  who  expounded 
his  law  are  at  issue.  To  remove  this  contrariety  it  will  be 
necessary  to  show  that  the  interpretation  put  upon  the 
command  to  love  your  neighbor  as  yourself,  by  modern 
anti-slavery  writers,  is  not  the  true  one.  We  say  it  with 
all  the  emphasis  of  which  we  a,re  capable,  that  the  princi 
ple  of  slavery  does  not  conflict  with  the  proper  lines  of 
the  law  of  human  love ;  that,  on  the  contrary,  in  many 
cases,  and  in  the  particular  case  of  American  slavery,  the 
proper  exercise  of  the  principle,  "  Love  your  neighbor  as 
yourself,"  demands  the  continuance  of  the  institution. 

By  the  precept,  "  Love  your  neighbor  as  yourself,"  and 
by  that  other  precept  (being  the  same  in  another  form,) 
"  Do  unto  others  as  you  would  that  others  should  do  unto 
you,"  we  are  not  to  understand  as  taught  that  whatever 
one  man  may  lawfully  desire  in  one  condition  of  life, 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY.  99 

another  may  lawfully  desire  in  another  condition  of  life  ; 
and  that  the  master  is,  therefore,  in  applying  the  rule  of 
love,  to  measure  the  proper  desires  of  his  servant  by  his 
own.  If  it  be  right  for  the  servant,  taking  into  considera 
tion  justice  to  the  master,  the  safety  and  welfare  of  society, 
and  the  welfare  of  the  servant  himself;  if  it  be  right  for 
the  servant,  in  view  of  all  these  considerations,  to  desire 
freedom,  then  it  is  certainly  true  that  the  master,  in  the 
proper  exercise  of  this  Christian  principle  of  love,  should 
set  him  free.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  it  be  not  right 
for  the  servant  to  desire  freedom,  because  of  any  of  the 
considerations  named,  or  for  any  other  sufficient  reason, 
then  it  is  equally  clear  that,  in  the  exercise  of  the  same 
principle,  the  master  should  not  manumit  him,  but  should 
hold  him  in  bondage.  Let  us  illustrate  the  practical  ope 
ration  of  this  principle  in  a  hypothetical  case,  the  parallel 
to  which  any  Southern  city  can  furnish.  A.  is  a  servant 
of  B.  B.  has  purchased  him  at  a  very  high  price.  With 
his  powers  as  a  mechanic,  A.  is  nevertheless  naturally  un 
thrifty,  negligent,  and  lazy.  He  needs  an  overseer — some 
one  to  compel  him  to  work  ;  otherwise,  he  would  become  a 
drunken  and  dissipated  wretch,  scarcely  able  to  earn  bread 
enough  to  live  upon,  much  less  to  rear  up  a  family.  A.  is 
now  in  B.'s  service,  and  works  well.  The  master  gives  him 

f  1  1          1        .1     •  T  1*    -   .     1    "  *  '  '  11       •  '  " 

luou  turn  vjiui/iijLijg,  tiim  supplies  111111  wim  nu  nie  iieuesscti ies> 
of  life.  He  has  a  wife  and  family,  all  of  whom  are  under 
the  control  of  his  master,  and  A.  is  as  happy  and  con 
tented  as  is  the  master  who  owns  him.  In  such  a  case, 
the  question  of  manumission  is  presented  to  B.  One  at 
his  elbow  suggests,  "  You  have  no  right  to  hold  A.  in 
bondage.  The  God  that  made  you  declares  that  'you 
must  love  your  neighbor  as  yourself;'  that  you  'must  do 
to  others  as  you  would  have  them  do  to  you.'  If  you  were 


100        THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY. 

in  A.'s  place,  you  would  desire  freedom.  Christian  love  to 
A.  must  prompt  you  to  set  him  free."  "But,"  responds 
B.,  "  I  cannot  set  him  free.  As  he  is,  he  is  filling  the 
station  God  designed  him  to  fill.  He  is  a  faithful,  steady 
servant.  He  works  well  as  a  servant.  His  labors  are  of 
great  pecuniary  advantage  to  me,  and  of  utility  to  the 
place  in  which  I  live.  He  has  all  the  necessary  comforts 
of  life  ;  a  wife  and  family  well  taken  care  of,  and  provided 
for  as  he  is  himself.  If  I  manumit  him,  I  will  do  him  an 
injury.  I  will  not  deny  that  he  may  desire  freedom,  but 
he  is  (as  all  of  his  race  are)  naturally  unthrifty  and  negli 
gent,  and  he  lacks  forethought.  If  I  set  him  free,  together 
with  his  family,  as  my  neighbor  N.  did  in  the  case  of  his 
servants,  like  them,  in  a  few  months — years  at  farthest — 
A.  and  his  family  will  become  vicious  and  filthy  in  their 
habits,  an  eyesore  to  all  passers-by,  and  some  of  them, 
perhaps,  tenants  of  the  jail  or  penitentiary.  I  believe  my 
duty  to  A.  and  to  A.'s  family,  and  the  love  you  speak  of, 
alike  require  that  I  should  keep  him  in  his  present  state  of 
servitude.  He  is  a  happier  and  better  man,  as  a  servant, 
than  he  would  be  if  he  were  free."  In  the  case  put,  is  not 
B.'s  reasoning  sound?  Yet  if  B.  had  measured  A.'s  de 
sires  by  his  own,  he  would  have  given  him  and  his  family 
their  freedom  ;  and  in  so  doing,  would  have  violated  rather 
than  obeyed  the  law  of  Christian  love,  by  inflicting  upon 
his  servant  the  evils  he  enumerates.  The  servant  is  not 
prepared  for  struggling  as  a  freeman  in  the  battle  of  life: 
he  is  not  fitted  for  the  position  into  which  he  would 
be  thrust  by  manumission ;  hence  his  ruin  by  securing 
freedom.  Dr.  Bledsoe  has  happily  expressed  the  thought 
we  are  here  enforcing  :  "A.  foolish  desire,  we  repeat,  in 
one  relation  of  life,  is  not  a  good  reason  for  a  foolish  or 
injurious  act  in  another  relation  thereof."  He  continues: 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY.         101 

"  The  precept  which  requires  us  to  do  as  we  would  be  done  by,  was 
intended  to  enlighten  the  conscience.  It  is  used  by  abolitionists  to 
hoodwink  and  deceive  the  conscience.  This  precept  directs  us  to  con 
ceive  ourselves  placed  in  the  condition  of  others,  in  order  that  we  may 
the  more  clearly  perceive  what  is  due  to  them.  The  abolitionist  em 
ploys  it  to  convince  us  that,  because  we  desire  liberty  for  ourselves, 
we  should  extend  it  to  all  men,  even  to  those  who  are  not  qualified  for 
its  enjoyment,  and  to  whom  it  would  prove  '  the  greatest  possible  in 
jury.'  He  employs  it  not  to  show  us  what  is  due  to  others,  but  to  per 
suade  us  to  injure  them  !  He  may  deceive  himself;  but  so  long  as  we 
believe  what  even  he  admits  as  highly  probable — namely,  that  the 
'  abolition  of  slavery  would  be  the  greatest  possible  injury  to  the  slaves 
themselves' — we  shall  never  use  the  Divine  precept  as  an  instrument 
of  delusion  and  of  wrong.  What!  inflict  the  greatest  injury  on  our 
neighbor,  and  that,  too,  out  of  pure  Christian  charity?" 

If  this  reasoning  be  sound,  it  follows  that,  in  some  cases, 
it  is  an  act  of  disservice  and  positive  injustice  to  the  slave 
to  manumit  him.  In  such  cases,  it  is  clear  that  slavery 
does  not  conflict  with  the  proper  exercise  of  the  principle, 
"Love  your  neighbor  as  yourself."  Slavery,  as  it  exists 
at  the  present  day  in  the  Southern  States  of  this  Union, 
constitutes,  we  think,  one  of  the  cases  in  which  justice  and 
love  to  the  slave  require  that  the  institution  should  con 
tinue  to  exist.  Some  of  our  opponents  will  admit  that 
slavery,  as  known  among  us,  is  of  the  most  mitigated  form ; 
that  it  has  resulted  in  no  little  advantage  to  the  slaves 
themselves  ;  and  that  it  compares  in  no  wise  with  the 
abjecter  servitude  which  prevailed  in  the  Eastern  countries 
in  Patriarchal  times  or  when  our  Saviour  lived,  or  even 
with  the  slavery  of  Africa  at  this  day.  Fictions  may  be 
written  to  unfold  to  an  astonished  world  the  horrors  of 
American  slavery  ;  but  we  have  no  conception  that  their 
authors  either  credit  them  themselves,  or  that  their  readers 
believe  them  to  be  veritable  descriptions  of  the  reality. 
These  readers  know  or  should  know  that  the  main  merit 


102         THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY. 

of  such  productions  consists  in  the  strength  of  imagination 
and  vividness  of  fancy  which  their  authors  have  brought  to 
the  task.  Slavery,  if  presented  in  its  true  guise,  would 
hardly  afford  material  fit  for  the  use  of  these  latter-day 
romancists,  who  deal  in  stories  to  "  curdle  the  blood,  and 
make  the  hair  stand  on  end."  Without  taking  into  the 
account,  then,  the  false  sentiment  which  such  works  may 
have  created,  it  will  hardly  be  questioned  by  those 
whose  opinions  are  worth  regarding,  that  the  slavery 
with  us  is  of  the  most  mitigated  form.  We  say  more : 
Our  slavery  has  exalted  the  race  who  are  its  subjects  from 
a  state  of  gross  barbarism  to  a  state  of  comparative  civili 
zation.  We  say  more :  The  race  subjected  to  slavery 
among  us  is  yet  imcompetent  to  govern  or  provide  for 
itself;  and  if  such  a  thing  as  universal  emancipation  were 
practicable,  and  could  the  race  at  once  be  separated  from 
the  whites,  it  would  again  speedily  lapse  into  barbarism. 
Even  amid  the  restraining  influences  of  the  highest  civili 
zation,  the  individual  instances  of  emancipation  attest 
what  we  have  said,  that,  as  a  people,  they  are  incompetent 
and  improvident,  and  utterly  unable  to  maintain  decently 
themselves  or  their  families.  In  the  character  of  slaves, 
they  have  been  useful,  and  have  advanced  rather  than 
retarded  the  prosperity  of  our  people.  Such  being  the 
advantages,  on  the  one  hand,  of  keeping  them  in  servitude, 
and  such  being  the  disadvantages,  on  the  other,  of  setting 
them  free,  the  argument  for  the  extinction  of  slavery  must 
be  overwhelming,  indeed,  before  we  can  be  brought  to  be 
lieve  that  it  is  either  just,  or  right,  or  expedient  to  manu 
mit  our  slaves.  As  they  are,  they  live  happily  and  con 
tented  :  as  the  abolitionists  propose  to  have  them,  they 
would  be  neither  happy  nor  contented,  and  would  too  often 
be  unable  to  secure  either  food  or  lodging.  As  they  are, 


THE  SCRIPTURAL  ARGUMENT  FOR  SLAVERY.         103 

they  render  service  to  their  masters  and  to  the  community, 
and  fill  up  the  sphere  for  which  their  capacities  and  char 
acter  adapt  them :  in  the  position  in  which  they  would  be 
thrust  by  setting  them  free,  they  would  be  incompetent  to 
discharge  aright  the  duties  they  would  owe  to  the  public 
or  to  themselves,  but  would  become  charges  upon  the  one 
and  curses  to  the  other. 

If  these  statements  be  true — and  may  we  not  appeal  to 
facts  to  support  every  assertion  we  have  made — it  is  evi 
dent  that  our  duty,  our  Christian  duty,  guided  by  the  prin 
ciple  of  that  maxim  which  anti-slavery  advocates  so  fre 
quently  urge,  demands  that  in  lieu  of  setting  our  slaves 
free,  and  depriving  them  of  our  oversight  and  care,  we 
should  retain  them  in  their  present  station,  until  such  im 
provement  is  discerned  and  exemplified  in  the  race  as  will 
afford  reliable  evidence  that  liberty  will  be  to  them  a  bless 
ing  and  not  a  curse. 


THE  NEW  LITERATURE.* 

i 

It  is  a  gratifying  feature  of  the  times  that  so  much  tal 
ent  is  effectively  employed  in  the  service  of. Truth.  In 
happy  ignorance  of  the  actual  state  of  the  matter,  one 
might  presume  that  talent  would  always  be  thus  employed 
— that  it  would  spurn  the  service  of  Error,  and  cast  off  its 
livery  as  a  hated  and  despicable  master.  Yet  how  falla 
cious  such  an  opinion.  Tested  by  every  day  experience, 
it  would  appear  that  talent  had  engaged  its  noblest  offices 
to  every  other  purpose  save  the  defence  of  truth, — that 
fur  this  alone  it  had  disdained  to  use  its  powers,  or,  if  to 
use  them  at  all,  to  do  so  inefficiently  and  feebly.  What  a 
display  of  talent,  for  example,  in  the  department  of  Fic 
tion — characterizing  by  the  term  every  species  of  litera 
ture  presenting  false  or  exaggerated  views  of  life  ?  How 
much  of  thrilling  eloquence,  of  dramatic  ability,  of  pow 
erful  narrative  ?  If  we  may  trust  ourself  to  read  the 
pages  of  modern  novelists  of  this  type,  we  shall  weep  over 
the  imaginary  wrongs  of  some  innocent  heroine,  while  our 
ears  are  deaf  and  our  sensibilities  unawakened  to  the  cry 
for  bread  at  oiir  doors,  and  the  petition  for  relief  on  our 
streets.  Or,  if  our  novelist  author  has  seasoned  his  dish 

*   Confessions  of  a  Converted  Infidel ;  with  Lights  and  Shadows  of  Itin 
erant  Life,  and  Miscellaneous   Sketches.     By  Rev.  JOHX  BAYLEY,  of  the 
Virginia  Annual  Conference.  Third  Edition.  New  York  :  M.  W.  Dodd, 
Publisher.     1856. 
8 


106  THE  NEW  LITERATURE. 

for  the  mental  palate  with  the  ordinary  condiments  of 
latter-day  fiction,  we  shall  discover  in  ourself  an  unwonted 
eagerness  for  the  success  of  the  well-polished  villain,  in 
his  scheme  of  villainy,  while  the  victim  of  his  vices,  adorn 
ed  erewhile  with  the  virtues  of  womanly  modesty  and  the 
graces  of  refined  and  delicate  sentiment,  secures  neither 
pity  nor  remorse.  Or,  we  are  introduced,  it  may  be,  into 
an  unnatural  and  unreal  world,  in  which  though  there  be 
upon  its  inhabitants  the  blight  of  sin,  its  streams  of  feli 
city  are  perennial  and  its  sweets  ever  enduring.  What  a 
display  of  talent  in  the  coteries  of  fashion  ?  If  we  shall 
visit  them,  we  will  find  the  sparkle  of  wit,  the  frolic  of 
humour,  and  the  play  of  satire — all  actively  enlisted,  not 
always  in  the  advancement  of  truth,  but  making  what  ef 
forts  they  may  for  its  annihilation.  At  the  best,  society, 
ordinarily  so  called,  is  but  a  contrivance  for  the  assassina 
tion  of  time  ! — "  time,  destined  to  perish  by  a  mightier 
hand,  but  men  are  willing  to  assist  in  its  destruction."* 

Turning  to  the  professions  and  business  pursuits  of  life, 
we  shall  discover  the  frequent  and  vast  efforts  of  talent  in 
building  up  the  wrong  and  pulling  down  the  right.  We 
are  not  inclined  to  echo  the  slanders  perpetrated  against 
the  professions  particularly.  We  cannot  entertain  the 
opinion  uttered  by  some,  even  of  respectable  attain 
ments,  that  no  man  can  be  a  lawyer  and  a  Christian  !  Yet, 
how  few  of  the  legal  profession  are  numbered  among 
Christ's  people  ?  How  few  have  studied  the  truly  "higher 
law"  of  his  kingdom,  and  have  deemed  it  more  honour  to 
fill  the  lowest  seat  at  his  table  than  to  gain  a  heritage  of 
fame !  Of  medical  men,  how  many  have  found  in  secon 
dary  causes  the  origin  of  things ;  and  have  neglected  the 
higher  analysis  of  the  immortal  and  imperishable  part  of 

*  John  Foster. 


THE  NEW  LITERATURE.  107 

man  to  devote  attention  exclusively  to  tlie  merely  mortal 
and  perishing  !  We  repeat,  that  observation  teaches  the 
lesson  that  Talent  has  not  always  been  enlisted  in  the  ser 
vice  of  truth.  And  when  thus  employed,  as  sometimes  it 
has  been,  its  efforts  have,  in  great  part,  been  feeble  and 
inefficient.  Truth  lay  hid  and  buried  in  the  ponderous 
octavos  and  unreadable  quartos  of  the  past  century,  while 
Error  was  disseminated  in  sprightly  essays  and  vivacious 
volumes.  We  rejoice  that  a  change  has  been  wrought 
here ; — that  the  children  of  light  have  learned  wisdom 
from  the  children  of  darkness,  and  that  sanctified  talent 
has  at  last  been  taught  the  lesson  that  precious  knowledge 
may  be  communicated  to  the  masses  better  in  the  tract 
than  in  the  treatise,  better  in  a  volume  of  unpretending 
proportions  than  in  a  body  of  divinity.  We  are  gratified 
that  it  has  learned  more — that  in  order  to  be  read,  in  or 
der  to  accomplish  the  very  purpose  for  which  books  are 
written,  books  must  be  made  interesting  as  well  as  instruc 
tive — must  have  the  graces  of  a  perspicuous  style  as 
well  as  an  abundance  of  ripe  thought.  Few  men  are  so 
highly  gifted  as  to  justify  the  venture  to  make  their  writings 
obscure  in  order  that  they  may  be  studied.  The  OiPolloi 
are  now  the  rulers  in  the  republic  of  letters — as  well  of 
Christian  letters,  distinctively  so  called,  as  of  what  is  un 
happily  denominated  profane  literature  ;  and  the  Oi  Polloi 
demand  that  those  who  cater  for  their  mental  religious  ap 
petite,  shall  create  the  appetite  as  well  as  supply  its  wants. 
We  regret  that  the  fact  is  so.  We  would  have  truth  sought 
for  herself,  because  she  is  Truth.  But  complainings  will 
not  remedy  the  evil.  Nor  will  it  do  to  stand  off  and  de 
liver  learned  divinity  to  a  public  mind  that  cannot  retain 
the  pith  of  a  single  sermon.  We  must  come  down  to  the 
capacities  of  the  people,  if  we  cannot  lift  them  up  to  our 


108  THE  NEW  LITERATURE. 

ordinary  tone  of  discourse.  We  must  give  them  the  nour 
ishment  they  can  digest,  for  nourishment  they  will  have, 
and  if  we  do  not  give  them  food  of  a  character  adapted 
to  their  capacities,  they  will  find  noxious  poisons  which, 
not  allaying  their  hunger,  will  destroy  the  little  of  men 
tal  health  and  vitality  that  remains.  It  is  for  these  reasons 
that  we  are  gratified  that  men  of  talent,  of  thinking  power, 
have  not  deemed  it  an  unworthy  office  to  supply  such  men 
tal  pabulum,  and  that  while  they  might  easily  have  con 
structed  systems  of  divinity,  they  have  preferred  to  pre 
sent  truth  in  its  fragments  in  order  to  entrap  into  the  way 
of  right  thinking  the  languid  and  almost  listless  reader  of 
modern  literature,  and  to  pour  over  his  intellect  a  tide  of 
fresh  and  pure  thought  to  quicken  it  to  a  healthful  activity. 
The  time  has  arrived  for  such  works.  When  John  Foster 
published  his  volume  of  essays,  containing  the  essay  on 
"Decision  of  Character,"  and  that  on  "  The  Use  of  the 
Epithet  Romantic,"  works  characterized  by  the  highest 
eloquence  and  by  profound  thought,  he  did  so  with  fear 
and  trembling  ;  and  was  gratified  that  his  volume  had 
met  with  even  a  moderate  success.  A  quarter  of  a 
century  afterwards,  "a  kind  of  moral  essay,"  such  as 
Foster  produced,  would  have  fallen  still-born  from  the 
press,  while  the  current  of  modern  fiction,  embracing  alike 
with  the  higher  qualities  of  imagination  and  artistic  power 
displayed  in  "  Vanity  Fair,"  "  Dombey  and  Son,"  and 
"Jane  Eyre,"  the  disgusting  detail  of  the  lives  of  "Dick 
Turpin,  the  Highwayman,"  and  "Edwards,  the  Forger," 
would  have  been  devoured  with  avidity  !  Fortunately,  the 
supply  of  the  baser  material  has  so  completely  glutted  the 
intellectual  appetite,  that  the  taste  for  such  delicacies  has 
in  a  measure  diminished,  and  is  daily  diminishing.  One 
may  even  confess  without  a  blush,  in  the  literary  circles  of 


THE  NEW  LITERATURE.  109 

the  day,  that  he  has  not  read  Dickens's  last  work,  and  is 
wholly  oblivious  of,  if  he  ever  saw,  the  latest  productions 
of  Bennett,  or  Reynolds  !  In  this  decline  of  the  modern 
Novel,  taking  its  march  into  oblivion  after  its  predecessor, 
the  Romance,  it  is  peculiarly  happy  that  Fact  and  Reality 
are  gaining  their  rightful  power,  and  that  Religious  Fact 
has  now  an  opportunity  to  assert  its  dominion. 

We  have  placed  at  the  beginning  of  this  article  the  title 
of  a  work  recently  published,  of  this  type.  We  hail  its  ap 
pearance  as  indicative  of  a  higher  literature  for  the  read 
ing  public,  and  its  extended  circulation  as  evidencing  that 
the  public  mind  is  now  at  least  in  part  prepared  for  a  purer 
and  more  healthful  style  of  thought  than  has  distinguished 
the  days  just  numbered  with  the  past. 

Mr.  Bayley's  book  is  autobiographic  throughout,  though 
he  may  not  probably  have  designed  it  as  such.  In  the 
Lights  and  Shades  of  Itinerant  Lifj  and  in  the  moral 
essays,  as  well  as  in  his  avowed  Confessions,  he  is  disclo 
sing  to  us  the  actual  progress  of  his  own  inind — a  mind 
intensely  active  and  stored  with  thought  and  eminently 
self  reflective  while  touching  at  many  points  the  external 
world,  and  deriving  pleasure  and  profit  from  the  contact. 
We  have  an  antipathy  to  the  title  "  Confessions."  We 
associate  with  it  the  so-called  disclosures  of  Rousseau,  his 
pompous  bombast  and  his  causeless  and  impertinent  self- 
abasement — self-abasement  having  more  the  air  of  self-ex 
altation  than  of  repentance,  more  of  the  spirit  of  the  car 
nally  proud  than  of  the  spiritually  humble.  We  would  be 
inclined  also  to  condemn  these  "Confessions  of  a  Converted 
Infidel,'  if  they  were  of  this  type  or  approached  it.  But 
this  is  far  from  being  true.  They  are  a  plain  and  unvar 
nished  tale  of  the  manner  in  which  the  author  trod  the 
pathway  to  infidelity  and  of  his  deliverance  from  its 


110  THE  NEW  LITERATURE. 

unhappy  power.  Our  author  was  born  in  an  ancient 
borough  of  old  England.  In  early  childhood  he  lost  the 
training  of  a  mother.  Before  he  had  reached  his  fifth 
birth-day  she  was  laid  in  the  grave.  His  father  was  un 
happily  an  admirer  of  Paine,  Volney  and  Voltaire,  and 
possibly  this  parental  example  had  somewhat  to  do  with  the 
early  aversion  which  he  cherished  toward  the  Bible  and 
the  avidity  with  which  his  mind  fastened  itself  upon  its 
unpalatable  truths,  leading  him  to  discard  its  teachings 
altogether.  A  course  of  miscellaneous  reading,  conver 
sation  with  the  leaders  of  the  infidel  party,  misuse  of  the 
Sabbath  for  purposes  of  r,ecreation,  contrast  of  the  rich 
and  wealthy  with  the  humble  and  destitute,  completed  the 
work  of  transformation  and  the  author  became  a  confirmed 
infidel.  In  that  spirit  he  bade  a  farewell  to  his  native 
land  "to  see  the  operations  of  Deism"  in  America.  A 
companion  blessed  him  on  his  way  with  the  exhortation 
"  that  he  had  been  inoculated  with  the  truth  and  must 
spread  it."  After  passing  many  years  in  the  northern 
portion  of  the  Union,  he  came  to  Virginia  to  learn  another 
system  of  truth,  and  to  become  its  ardent  and  zealous  de 
fender.  By  a  series  of  not  very  wonderful  providences, 
he  is  led  gently  along  to  retrace  his  steps,  to  converse 
again  with  the  pious  and  the  pure,  to  read  books  of  whole 
some  doctrine  and  finally  to  renounce  his  infidelity  and  to 
embrace  in  intellect  the  truth  of  the  Christian  religion. 
We  must  cite  here  a  passage  disclosing  this  gradual  change 
of  mind :  "  I  began  to  look  upon  religion  and  religious 
people  with  more  respect  and  to  attend  more  frequently 
the  house  of  God.  It  was  some  time  after  this  before  my 
heart  was  sufficiently  humbled  to  lead  me  to  the  practice  of 
prayer.  Indeed,  I  still  thought,  with  a  marvellous  incon 
sistency,  that  prayer  to  the  Almighty  was  very  absurd. 


THE  NEW  LITERATURE.  Ill 

And  one  day  I  walked  into  the  solitude  of  the  woods 
to  think  over  the  subject,  with  the  intention  of  writing  an 
essay  upon  it.  As  I  was  walking  about,  I  thought,  '  If 
God  is  infinite  in  knowledge,  why  should  we  inform  him  of 
our  own  wants,  since  he  knew  them  before  ?  If  he  is  in 
finitely  wise,  why  should  we  attempt  to  direc,  him?  If  he 
is  infinitely  good,  why  should  we  endeavor  to  prevail  upon 
him  to  supply  our  wants  ?  Arid,  above  all,  if  he  is  unchange 
able,  why  should  we  solicit  him  to  change  ?'  In  the  midst 
of  these  reflections,  my  attention  was  arrested  by  a  plain 
tive  and  earnestly  supplicating  voice,  and  going  in  the  di 
rection  from  which  the  voice  came,  I  saw  a  negro  man  on 
his  knees,  under  a  tree,  with  hands  clasped  together  and 
uplifted  to  heaven,  while  he  cried  out  with  great  earnest 
ness,  'Jesus,  Master,  have  mercy  upon  me  a  poor  sinner !' 
And  this  he  continued  to  repeat.  The  poor  fellow  did  not 
observe  me,  so  intently  was  he  engaged  in  prayer.  An 
awful  feeling  came  over  my  soul ;  I  forgot  my  essay,  and 
walked  back  to  town  musing  on  the  power  of  religion. 
That  negro  was  happily  converted,  and  many  a  time  after 
ward  have  we  met  together  at  our  sunrise  prayer  meetings, 
and  in  the  use  of  other  means  of  grace.  These  impres 
sions,  however,  wore  off,  and  it  was  not  until  it  pleased  the 
Lord  to  lay  me  upon  a  bed  of  sickness  that  I  was  led  to 
renounce  publicly  my  infidel  sentiments,  and  to  seek  an 
interest  in  the  atonement  made  for  the  whole  human  race 
by  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

While  he  lay  on  the  bed  of  disease,  the  letter  of  an 
absent  sister  from  across  the  Atlantic  reached  him  and 
touched  his  heart.  He  longed  to  be  a  Christian  that  he 
might  say,  that  if  they  met  no  more  on  earth  they  would 
meet  in  heaven.  This  at  least  would  be  something  cheer 
ing  to  write ;  and  she  had  told  him  that  his  letters  wore 


112  THE  NEW  LITERATURE. 

unhappy  and  made  her  so.  Here  was  the  turning  point 
in  his  experience.  He  had  found  before  that  Butler's 
Analogy  was  able  to  remove  all  his  positive  objections  to 
the  truths  of  the  Christian  religion,  but  he  had  not  yet 
cherished  the  spirit  which  prompted  to  a  cheerful  and 
hearty  surrender  to  its  claims.  "  The  Christian  religion 
became,"  he  says,  "something  very  lovely  and  desirable 
in  my  sight,  and  though  it  was  several  months  before  I 
could  make  the  change  in  my  sentiments  known,  there  was 
a  decided  change  from  that  hour."  The  stragglings  with 
conscience  were  not  yet  over :  We  must  cite  his  graphic 
description  of  his  conversion :  "  The  devil  was  endeavor 
ing  to  retain  me  in  his  bondage  and  I  could  find  no  rest 
to  my  spirit.  I  wandered  into  the  woods  in  the  neighbor 
hood,  and  there,  in  the  silence  of  the  groves,  sat  down 
and  wept.  Often  did  I  make  up  my  mind  to  unbosom 
myself  to  some  one,  and  as  often  did  pride  gain  the  mas 
tery  over  me,  and  compel  me  to  keep  my  secret.  Never, 
while  memory  retains  her  power,  shall  I  forget  one  holy 
Sabbath  morning,  when  I  paid  a  visit  to  the  Baptist 
church,  to  hear  the  Rev.  Mr.  Fife.  He  gave  out  the  hymn 
commencing, 

'Jesus  !  and  sliall  it  ever  be. — 
A  mortal  man  ashamed  of  thee?' 

When  the  congregation  began  to  sing  the  hymn,  I  looked 
around  with  a  heavy  heart ;  my  lips  were  sealed,  and  I 
could  not  utter  a  word,  and  a  voice  in  my  inmost  soul 
seemed  to  say,  'Yes,  sinner,  that  is  you — you  are  the 
only  one  in  this  congregation  ashamed  of  Christ.'  For 
it  seemed  to  me  that  with  one  united  heart  and  voice  that 
congregation  did  worship  Christ  as  a  God.  My  troubled 
heart  would  not  allow  me  to  pay  much  attention  to  the 


THE  NEW  LITERATURE.  113 

sermon ;  but  I  went  home  weary  and  heavy  laden?  anxious 
to  obtain  rest,  and  yet  obstinately  and  foolishly  refusing 
to  seek  it  in  God's  appointed  way.  Falling  into  the  com 
pany  of  some  young  men  who  had  recently  been  convert 
ed,  I  made  some  enquiries  about  religion,  to  which  they 
gave  me  evasive  answers,  supposing  that  I  wanted  to  get 
into  a  controversy  with  them.  Seeing  their  unwillingness 
to  converse  with  me  on  the  subject,  my  heart  was  grieved 
and  my  eyes  were  filled  with  tears.  One  of  them  said, 
i  Are  you  sick?  you  had  better  lie  down.'  And  though  I 
assured  them  that  I  was  not  sick,  they  all  left  the  room. 
As  soon  as  I  was  left  alone,  a  voice  in  my  heart  seemed 
to  say,  Sinner,  you  should  kneel  down  and  pray.  It  was 
the  wooing  voice  of  Christ,  leading  the  blind  by  a  way 
that  he  knew  not ;  but,  to  my  shame  let  it  be  written,  I 
thought  that  perhaps  some  one  would  come  in  and  see  me 
at  prayer.  So  I  took  the  key  of  Mr.  James  Jackson's 
store,  and  went  to  that  place  and  locked  myself  in,  and 
soon  was  upon  my  knees.  With  a  heart  tossed  to  and  fro 
by  a  variety  of  conflicting  emotions,  I  began,  '  0  Lord, 
if  thou  didst  ever  hear  prayer — '  Here  I  came  to  a  pause, 
and  repeated  the  '  if,'  and  it  occurred  to  my  mind  that  it 
was  very  absurd  to  pray  in  that  way, 'since  God  had  caus 
ed  it  to  be  written  in  his  word,  '  Without  faith  it  is  impos 
sible  to  please  Him  ;  he  that  cometh  to  God  must  believe 
that  He  is,  and  that  He  is  a  rewarder  of  them  that  dili 
gently  seek  him.'  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  rose  from 
my  knees  without  offering  up  a  prayer.  I  then  opened 
the  Bible  and  read  the  eighth  chapter  of  the  epistle  to 
the  Romans,  at  which  place  I  happened  to  open  undesign- 
edly.  This  was  entirely  above  my  comprehension,  and  it 
occurred  to  my  mind  that  I  had  once  read  it  before,  and 
asked  my  father  if  he  understood  it ;  to  which  he  replied, 


114  THE  NEW  LITERATURE. 

f  No,  nor  does  any  one  else — it  is  a  heap  of  nonsense.' 
Finding  nothing  to  relieve  me  here,  I  closed  the  book 
and  left  the  store,  and  endeavored  to  shake  off  my  feel 
ings  in  another  way.  Some  few  weeks  afterward  Mr. 
Childs  had  an  appointment  in  the  village.  It  was  in  the 
Christmas  time,  and  though  the  backsliding  which  gene 
rally  follows  great  religious  excitements  had  not  commen 
ced,  there  was  no  unusual  manifestation  of  religious  feel 
ing  at  that  time  in  the  community.  I  was  one  of  the  con 
gregation  that  night,  but  I  have  no  recollection  of  the 
preacher's  text,  nor  of  his  discourse.  All  that  I  know  is, 
that  he  fixed  his  piercing  eyes  upon  me  at  the  close  of  the 
discourse,  descended  from  the  pulpit,  walked  deliberately 
to  me,  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  said,  '  Get  down  on  your 
knees,  and  begin  to  pray.'  I  fell  down  trembling  without 
a  word,  and  began  to  pray  and  cry  aloud  for  mercy.  Thus 
the  struggle,  as  far  as  regards  my  recantation  of  infidel 
ity,  was  over,  and  I  was  before  the  congregation  a  weep 
ing  penitent  suing  for  mercy  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  I 
remained  on  my  knees  until  the  congregation  was  dismiss 
ed,  when  some  one  came  to  me  and  whispered  in  my  ear 
that  I  ought  to  go  home  and  pray  there.  As  soon  as  I 
got  to  my  room,  I  saw  a  friend  with  whom  I  lodged  at  the 
time,  sitting  by  a  table  reading ;  and  throwing  myself 
upon  my  knees  by  the  bedside,  I  asked  him  to  pray  for 
me.  He  immediately  left  the  room,  and  sent  Mr.  Childs, 
and  several  other  brethren,  who  came  to  my  room,  and 
held  a  little  prayer-meeting  until  about  midnight.  After 
they  had  left  me,  I  remained  up  all  night  in  a  state  that 
I  have  no  language  to  describe.  It  appeared  to  me  that 
I  had  committed  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  sin 
which  hath  no  forgiveness,  and  I  was  afraid  to  lie  down 
and  sleep,  lest  I  should  die,  and  wake  up  in  hell-  I  re- 


THE    NEW  LITERATURE.  115 

mained  in  my  room  all  the  next  day,  meditating,  praying 
and  reading,  and  at  night  went  to  a  prayer-meeting,  at 
which  John  Morris,  a  colored  man,  who  has  since  gone  to 
Liberia  as  a  missionary,  made  a  profession  of  religion. 
At  that  meeting  one  against  whom  I  had  taken  up  a  pre 
judice,  put  his  arms  around  me  and  tried  to  encourage  me 
to  believe,  but  it  had  a  chilling  effect  upon  my  feelings,  and 
as  I  walked  home  that  night,  I  thought  I  should  give  up 
the  struggle  and  become  worse  than  I  had  ever  been. 
But  the  next  day  my  convictions  returned  with  increased 
power,  and  I  lay  on  my  bed  almost  in  the  agonies  of  des 
pair.  While  reflecting  on  my  past  life,  and  on  the  great 
subject  of  religion,  I  was  bewildered  ;  my  reason  seemed 
to  be  forsaking  me;  and  then  it  was  suggested  to  my 
mind,  you  will  lose  your  reason,  and  then  you  will  cer 
tainly  be  lost,  for  religion  is  a  reasonable  thing,  and  no 
one  who  is  not  in  his  right  mind,  can  repent  and  believe 
in  Christ.  This  alarmed  me  greatly,  and  I  turned  over 
in  my  bed  and  cried  aloud,  so  that  some  of  the  neighbors 
came  in  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  Among  others,  my 
dear  departed  friend,  Brother  Wm.  Blanton,  came  in  and 
knelt  by  my  bedside  and  prayed  for  me.  The  conversa 
tion  of  Mr.  James  M.  Jackson,  Mr.  John  Long,  and 
others,  was  profitable  and  encouraging  to  my  soul.  I 
read  Butler's  chapter  on  the  Mediatorial  character  of  the 
Saviour,  and  was  satisfied  with  regard  to  the  correctness 
of  the  author's  positions  ;  but  still  there  was  a  mountain 
of  unbelief  on  my  heart,  and  I  could  not  trust  in  God  for 
salvation.  Though  I  saw  clearly  that  God  had  promised 
to  forgive  the  sins  of  all  who  believe  in  Jesus,  I  could 
not  understand  how  this  could  be  done,  and  therefore  I 
would  not  believe.  After  all  my  company  left  me,  I  rose 
from  my  bed  and  sat  down  by  the  fire  in  profound  medi- 


116  THE  NEW  LITERATURE. 

tation.  The  little  negro  boy  who  sat  in  one  corner  of  the 
room  looked  very  earnestly  at  me,  and  inquired, 

" '  What  was  the  matter  with  you  when  you  hallooed 
so?' 

"  '  God  was  punishing  me  for  my  sins,'  I  replied. 

"  '  What  did  that  little  man  do  for  you  ?' 

"  'He  prayed  for  me.' 

"' Would  God  hear  him?' 

"  '  Here  I  was  puzzled,  and  knew  not  what  to  answer. 
I  thought,  if  I  say  no,  I  shall  contradict  the  Scriptures, 
for  God  has  said,  l  Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive  ;  seek,  and 
ye  shall  find ;  knock,  and  the  door  shall  be  opened  to 
you.'  And  if  I  say  yes,  I  shall  not  speak  the  truth,  be 
cause  I  do  not  believe  it.  So  I  remained  in  silence.  With 
a  sigh  the  little  boy  exclaimed,  'I  wish  I  could  pray.'  I 
still  made  no  reply,  and  he  said,  ;  Won't  you  teach  me  to 
pray,  sir?' 


U    4 


You  must  ask  the  Lord  to  teach  you,'  I  responded. 

"  c  Must  I  ?  What  must  I  say  ?'  he  again  inquired. 

"  Struck  with  the  earnestness  of  the  little  fellow,  I  be 
gan  to  be  more  attentive  to  him,  and  remembering  a  verse 
of  a  hymn  which  I  had  been  taught  when  I  was  a  little 
child,  I  said,  say,  'Lord,  teach  a  little  child  to  pray.' 

"  He  instantly  knelt  down  at  my  feet,  put  his  face  to 
the  floor,  and  whispered,  '  Lord,  teach  a  little  child  to 
pray  ?' 

"  The  thought  instantly  flashed  into  my  mind,  if  that 
little  boy  can  believe  in  me,  why  cannot  I  believe  in  God. 
He  says  in  his  word,  that  He  i  so  loved  the  world  as  to 
give  his  only-begotten  Son,  that  WHOSOEVER  believeth  in 
Him,  might  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.'  This 
declaration  embraces  me,  if  I  believe  it,  and  whether  I 
understand  how  it  can  be  done  or  not,  I  must  and  will  be- 


THE  NEW  LITERATURE.  117 

lieve  it  on  the  authority  of  God  himself.  In  a  moment 
the  burden  seemed  to  fall  from  my  heart.  I  felt  greatly 
relieved ;  and  though  I  did  not  take  it  for  conversion  at 
the  time,  from  that  moment  I  began  to  look  at  the  Saviour 
with  the  eye  of  faith.  When  I  laid  down  in  bed  that 
night,  a  couplet  of  one  of  Charles  Wesley's  hymns  was 
continually  suggested  to  my  mind, — 

'  Now,  e'en  now,  the  Saviour  stands, 
All  day  long  he  spreads  his  hands.' 

A  friend  read  to  me  after  I  laid  down  the  tentli  chapter 
of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  which  contains  the  same 
sentiment : — '  But  to  Israel  he  saith,  all  day  long  have  I 
stretched  forth  my  hand  to  a  gainsaying  and  rebellious 
people.'  I  was  still  more  convinced  of  sin,  and  prayed 
more  earnestly  to  God,  Before  I  fell  asleep  the  words  of 
the  Psalmist  came  to  my  mind,  i  For  his  anger  endureth 
but  a  moment ;  in  his  favor  is  life  ;  weeping  may  endure 
for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  in  the  morning.'  1  fell  asleep 
in  hope  of  obtaining  a  still  clearer  assurance  of  the  par 
doning  mercy  of  God,  and  I  was  not  disappointed.  About 
four  o'clock  I  awoke,  and  began  to  reflect,  what  am  I  ? 
and  the  answer  came  to  my  mind  in  a  moment,  I  am  a  child 
of  God,  and  an  heir  of  everlasting  life,  and  then  I  began 
to  sing  in  the  beautiful  language  of  Kirke  White ; — 

;  Once  on  the  raging  seas  I  rode, 

The  storm  was  loud,  the  night  was  dark, 

The  ocean  yawn'd,  and  rudely  blowed 

The  wind  that  toss'd  my  found'ring  barque. 

'Deep  horror  then  my  vitals  froze, 

Death  struck,  I  ceased  the  tide  to  stem  ; 
When  suddenly  a  star  arose. 

It  was  the  star  of  Bethlehem. 


118  THE  NEW  LITERATURE. 

'It  was  my  guide,  my  light,  my  all, 

It  bade  my  dark  forebodings  cease, 
And  through  the  storm  and  danger's  thrall, 

It  lead  me  to  the  port  of  peace.' 

My  voice  was  feeble  at  first,  but  it  gradually  became  louder, 
until  my  room-mate  awoke,  and  asked  me  what  was  the 
matter.  To  which  I  replied,  that  my  soul  was  happy,  and 
that  it  made  me  feel  comfortable  in  body  and  in  mind. 
I  arose  from  my  bed,  and  continued  in  reading  the  Scrip 
tures,  prayer,  arid  praise,  until  the  break  of  day,  when  I 
took  a  walk  on  the  banks  of  the  Appomattox  river,  and 
on  that  memorable  morning  all  things  appeared  more 
bright  and  beautiful  than  had  ever  before  appeared  to 
me.  The  trees,  all  withered  and  lifeless  as  they  were, 
appeared  to  be  covered  with  glory,  and  all  Nature  had  a 
voice  exhorting  me  to  praise  her  great  Creator.  '  0  sing 
unto  the  Lord  a  new  song,  for  He  hath  done  marvellous 
things.  With  his  own  right  hand,  and  with  his  holy  arm 
he  hath  gotten  to  himself  the  victory.'  I  felt  then  dis 
posed  to  shake  hands  with  every  one  that  I  met,  and 
thought  it  strange  when  any  one  did  not  sympathize  with 
me  in  my  joy.  I  was  not,  however,  without  strong  temp 
tations.  Satan  continued  to  assail  me  with  his  fiery  darts, 
and  I  had  many  a  struggle  with  the  powers  of  darkness, 
but  I  generally  drove  them  away  by  singing  and  prayer." 
The  author  subsequently  becoming  convinced  of  his  duty 
to  preach,  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  his  friends,  began 
the  ministry  at  once.  He  united  himself  with  the  itinerancy, 
and  entered  with  cheerful  heart  upon  its  laborious  duties. 
We  have  already  said  his  entire  book  is  autobiographic. 
The  Lights  and  Shades  of  Itinerant  Life  are  confessedly 
such,  and  disclose  the  sunshine  and  the  storms  of  the  trav 
elling  minister.  These  sketches  are  racily  written  and  will 


THE  NEW  LITERATURE.  119 

amply  repay  the  curious  reader.  They  tell  us  what  the 
man  of  God  sees  and  handles  in  his  effort  to  do  good,  and 
how  his  philosophy  and  patience  are  put  to  the  test  alter 
nately  by  awkward  politeness  and  impudent  swagger. 
The  writer  does  not  omit  an  occasion  to  shoot  at  folly  as 
it  flies,  and  his  shot  is  usually  effective.  In  illustrating 
the  case  of  those  who  bless  the  Lord  for  a  free  gospel, 
meaning  one  that  costs  them  nothing,  he  appends  the 
following  note  : 

"  A  penurious  member  of  the  church  said  in  a  religious 
meeting,  <  I  bless  the  Lord  for  a  free  gospel ;  I  have  been 
a  member  of  the  church  for  many  years,  and  it  has  never 
cost  me  anything  except  tiventy-five  cents  /'  The  preacher 
looked  on  him  with  mingled  surprise  and  pity,  and  a  small 
infusion  of  contempt,  and  said  :  '  God  bless  your  stingy 
soul!'" 

An  extract  from  the  sunny  side  of  the  itinerant  life  will 
be  in  place  here  : 

"  It  must  not  be  forgotten,  however,  while  we  are  mu 
sing  on  these  petty  pains,  which  small  as  they  are  individ 
ually,  in  the  aggregate  are  not  to  be  despised,  that  the 
itinerant  of  the  present  day  is  free  from  many  of  the 
cares  and  anxieties  that  harass  his  brethren  who  lead  a 
more  settled  life ;  nor  that  he  has  many  advantages  which 
flow  from  the  nature  of  his  wandering  life.  By  a  proper 
management  of  his  time,  and  habits  of  self-denial,  he  may 
find  opportunities  for  reading  and  reflection,  and  for  the 
improvement  of  his  own  heart  and  mind.  The  great  book 
of  human  nature  is  ever  open  to  his  view.  Nature,  with 
all  her  charms,  smiles  upon  him,  and  spreads  before  him 
all  her  treasures.  He  has  the  privilege  of  visiting  vil 
lages,  towns,  and  cities,  mountains  and  valleys,  rivers  and 
lakes,  which  he  never  would  have  seen  if  he  had  not  been 


120  THE  NEW  LITERATURE. 

an  itinerant  minister.  Sometimes,  as  lie  communes  in  his 
closet  with  the  master  spirits  of  past  ages,  or  as  he  pur 
sues  his  solitary  way  through  the  woods,  and  forests,  and 
gazes  upon  the  sublime  and  beautiful  scenes  of  nature, 
his  heart  swells  with  joy,  and  he  blesses  God  who  called 
him  to  this  glorious  work.  He  has  the  advantage,  too, 
of  free  and  familiar  intercourse  with  many  of  the  choice 
spirits  of  the  Church  of  the  living  God.  Still  more :  he 
enjoys  the  counsels,  the  prayers  and  the  sympathy  of  the 
holiest  among  the  children  of  God,  and  he  looks  forward 
to  the  time"  when  he  will  mingle  with  them  in  the  General 
Assembly  of  the  Saints  in  the  Glorious  Land.  When  he 
sees  these  things  by  faith,  he  feels  that  he  would  not  ex 
change  positions  with  the  wealthiest  and  the  most  honora 
ble  of  the  human  race.  On  the  other  hand,  he  has  a 
heavy  load  of  care,  and  an  awful  responsibility  to  the 
world,  to  the  Church,  and  to  God.  He  occupies  a  perilous 
height,  on  which  it  is  difficult  to  stand,  and  from  which  it 
would  be  damnation  to  fall.  And,  therefore,  with  the 
great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  he  exclaims,  c  Who  is  suffi 
cient  for  these  things  ?'  In  the  midst  of  grief  or  glad 
ness,  sickness  or  health,  success  or  failure,  he  toils  on, 
choosing  rather  to  suffer  affliction  with  the  people  of  God 
than  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season.  If  he 
succeeds  in  winning  souls  for  Christ,  and  building  up  the 
Church  of  God,  he  rejoices  like  one  who  has  found  a  great 
treasure.  Occasionally  he  has  the  mortification  to  find 
that  his  own  brethren  are  the  greatest  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  his  usefulness.  Some  Diotrephes,  who  '  loves  to 
have  the  pre-eminence,'  some  Demas,  who  '  loves  the  pre 
sent  wTorld,'  or  some  cross-grained  brother,  whose  whims 
and  caprices  have  not  been  sufficiently  attended  to  may 
raise  a  clamor  against  him  ;  or  some  emissary  of  Satan 


THE  NEW  LITERATURE.  121 

may  succeed  in  raising  prejudices,  against  him,  so  that  he 
is  sent  away  from  his  field  of  labor,  before  the  harvest  is 
ripe.  A  stranger  enters  and  reaps  the  crop.  In  his  next 
field  of  labor,  however,  the  case  is  altered.  He  is  the 
reaper  this  time,  and  those  who  look  only  at  the  surface 
of  things  take  him  to  be  something ;  and  yet  he  is  the 
same  man  that  he  was  before,  while  the  circumstances 
around  him  are  altered  a  little." 

A  Second  trip  across  the  Atlantic  opens  up  in  our  au 
thor's  history  a  fresh  spring  of  delightful  incidents,  and 
under  the  titles  "Home  Again,"  "  London,"  "  Farewell," 
and  "  Reflections  on  the  Ocean,"  he  makes  us  familiar  with 
his  friendships  and  his  clear  loved  ones  at  home.  We 
regret  our  inability  to  make  more  than  a  simple  reference 
to  these  and  to  the  essays  on  "Reading,"  "Thinking," 
"Christian  Conversation,"  "The  Study  of  Human  Na 
ture,"  and  "Superstition."  From  the  article  on  "Loquac 
ity,"  the  longest  and  best  of  the  sketches,  we  make  a 
brief  extract: 

"Apart  from  higher  considerations,  it  would  be  well  for 
these  incessant  talkers  to  remember,  that  they  lose  much 
by  their  want  of  moderation  in  the  exercise  of  their  gifts. 
By  monopolizing  all  the  time,  they  prevent  others  who 
are  their  company  from  speaking,  especially  the  modest 
and  unassuming ;  and  to  say  nothing  of  the  injustice  of 
such  a  course,  in  this  land  of  equal  rights,  who  can  tell 
how  much  information,  sparkling  wit,  and  brilliant  elo 
quence,  they  lose  by  their  conduct  ?  It  has  been  remarked 
that  celebrated  authors,  with  few  exceptions,  have  had 
little  to  say  in  company ;  but  they  have  been  great  listen 
ers — 'swift  to  hear,  slow  to  speak.'  It  might  be  well 
then,  if  those  persons  who  are  afflicted  with  the  talking 
mania,  would  occasionally,  at  least,  impose  silence  upon 


122  THE  NEW  LITERATURE. 

themselves  for  a  season.  And  this  brings  to  mind  an  ob 
servation  made  by  a  shrewd  gentleman  in  Richmond,  Vir 
ginia.  A  love-feast  had  just  been  held  in  one  of  the  city 
churches,  in  which  very  few  persons  had  anything  to  say. 
When  some  one  complained  of  the  dulness  of  the  meet 
ing,  that  individual  observed,  that  the  meeting  must  have 
done  good,  for  certain  persons  who  were  at  it  had  not 
kept  silence  so  long  for  many  years  !  It  is  said,  also, 
that  one  of  the  loquacious  tribe  went  to  a  Quaker  meet 
ing,  at  which  nothing  was  said,  and  he  becoming  exces 
sively  tired  of  it,  went  out  in  a  pet,  and  exclaimed,  '  That 

is  enough  to  kill  the  d 1!'     'That  is  exactly  what  we 

want  to  do,'  quietly  remarked  the  Quaker." 

It  was  an  apt  remark  of  Robert  Hall  that  t(  it  is  the 
fortune  of  some  men  to  labor  under  an  incapacity  of  dis 
cerning  living  worth — a  sort  of  moral  virtuosi  who  form 
their  estimate  of  character  as  the  antiquarian  of  coins,  by 
the  rust  of  antiquity." 

"  Urit  enim  fulgore  suo,  qui  prasgravat  artes 
Infra  se  positas  :  extinctus  amabitur  idem.1' 

We  have  not  followed  the  timorous  example  set  us  by 
such  critics  ;  and  we  are  assured  that  the  reader  who  will 
consult  the  pages  of  our  author,  will  not  regret  our  de 
parture,  in  the  present  instance,  from  a  standard  of  judg 
ment  so  narrow  and  contracted.  For  the  ripe  instruction 
with  which  the  volume  abounds,  and  chiefly  of  all,  for  its 
charming  simplicity  of  style,  we  heartily  commend  this 
specimen  of  the  New  Literature. 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.* 

Our  main  purpose  is  not  so  much  with  Mr.  Brown's  book, 
as  with  a  topic  he  has  incidentally  discussed — the  ethics 
of  the  legal  profession.  We  fully  agree  with  him  in  the 
statement  that  his  work  has  no  pretensions  to  style.  The 
frankness  of  the  disclaimer  will  somewhat  blunt  the  edge 
of  criticism.  As  mere  collectanea  of  anecdotes,  and  brief 
sketchings  of  legal  biography,  his  volumes  will  prove  to  be 
passably  interesting,  and  pleasant  light  reading  ;  had  their 
author  claimed  for  them  a  higher  position,  they  would 
unquestionably  not  have  secured  it.  Humble,  however,  as 
are  the  claims  of  Mr.  Brown's  work,  it  should  not  go 
wholly  unrebuked.  We  admit  his  perfect  right  to  publish 
as  many  of  his  personal  recollections  as  he  may  choose  ; 
and  if  designed  and  heralded  as  his  own  life,  to  mingle 
with  it  as  much  of  egotism  and  self-laudation  as  may  suit 
his  taste ;  but  we  strongly  question  his  right  to  devote 
largely  more  than  a  hundred  pages  of  a  work,  professedly 
giving  an  account  of  the  practice  and  practitioners  of 
Pennsylvania,  to  a  discussion  of  his  own  merits  and  posi 
tion,  while  his  recital  of  the  character  and  life  of  such  a 
man  as  Justice  Washington  is  compressed  into  about 
twenty.  The  disproportion  may  not  have  been  noted  by 

*  The  Forum  ;  or,  Forty  Years  Full  Practice  at  the  Philadelphia  Bar.  By 
DAVID  PAUL  BROWN.  Two  Volumes.  Philadelphia :  Robert  H.  Small, 
Law  Bookseller,  No.  21  S.  Sixth  Street,  1856. 


124  CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

Mr.  Brown.  He  may  possibly  imagine  that  each  has  been 
treated  according  to  his  deserts — that  the  author  of  "  The 
Forum"  is  entitled  to  fill  a  much  larger  space  in  the 
public  eye,  than  the  great,  venerable  and  distinguished 
Justice ;  but  Mr.  Brown  will  scarcely  get  the  reading 
public,  either  professional  or  non-professional,  to  agree  with 
him.  To  prevent  mistake  here,  let  us  say  that  the  memoir 
of  Mr.  Brown  prefixed  to  his  work  was  not  written  by  his 
own  hand.  It  seems  to  have  been  prepared  originally  by 
a  friend  of  the  author,  for  a  place  among  the  catalogue  of 
the  distinguished  living,  published  by  Mr  John  Livingston 
in  his  "Biographies."  The  writer,  however,  had  peculiar 
advantages  for  the  work.  He  quotes  the  private  journal 
of  Mr.  Brown,  and  gives  us  an  account  of  his  first  public 
eifort.  From  this  it  appears  that  Mr.  Brown's  debut  in 
the  courts  of  Pennsylvania  equalled,  if  it  did  not  excel, 
the  highest  efforts  of  Grecian  or  Roman  oratory,  and  in 
stantly  placed  the  orator  upon  the  pinnacle  of  fame.  The 
biographer  does  not  tell  us,  that  like  Erskine  on  the  occa 
sion  of  his  famous  first  speech  before  Lord  Mansfield,  the 
Philadelphia  orator  received  thirty  retainers  before  he  left 
the  court  room.  He  doubtless  deserved  them. 

Having  said  thus  much  in  censure  of  these  volumes,  we 
must  say  what  it  is  in  our  heart  to  say  in  commendation 
of  the  writer  and  his  work.  He  seems  to  be  a  good  na- 
tured,  cheerful  old  gentleman,  liberal  to  a  fault,  and  a  sincere 
teacher  of  the  lesson  of  good  fellowship.  He  has  placed 
a  high,  but  not  too  high,  estimate  upon  the  practical  value 
of  strict  professional  decorum ;  and  inculcates  as  one  of 
the  essentials  to  success  as  well  as  to  comfort  in  the  prac 
tice  of  the  law,  the  cultivation  of  an  equable  temper,  and 
seasonably  and  shrewdly  remarks,  that  "  no  client  would 
be  safe  in  trusting  the  management  of  his  cause  to  a 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.  125 

lawyer  who  is  incapable  of  self-government."  He  also  calls 
attention  to  another  feature  in  legal  life,  which  may 
strike  with  some  surprise  those  who  are  not  familiar  with  its 
inner  departments  :  "  The  result  of  professional  harmony  is 
the  greatest  mutual  confidence.  They  rely  upon  each  other's 
word  as  an  infalible  bond.  As  between  themselves,  they 
rarely  require  any  writing ,  as  assurance.  They  neither 
doubt  nor  are  doubted.  This,  among  the  other  lofty  prin 
ciples  of  the  profession,  has  secured  them  here  and  every 
where  a  position  which  neither  envy  nor  calumny  can  ever 
destroy  or  impair." 

The  legal  profession  has  been  the  subject  of  calumny. 
No  one  will  doubt  this  who  has  taken  the  pains  to  acquaint 
himself  with  the  ordinary  opinions  cherished  and  expressed 
by  some  even  of  the  more  intelligent  classes  who  have 
devoted  themselves  to  other  pursuits.  As  the  result  of 
calumnies  widely  and  industriously  diffused  by  those  who 
believe  them  to  be  true,  we  think  we  do  not  err  in  saying, 
that  a  large  proportion  of  thinking  men,  outside  the 
profession,  regard  the  vigorous,  faithful  and  earnest  prose 
cution  of  the  law  as  incompatible  with  the  highest  standard 
of  morality  ;  as  inconsonant  with  a  sincere  attachment  for 
the  principles  of  the  Christian  religion. 

It  is  our  design,  in  the  present  article,  to  vindicate  the 
profession  from  these  charges,  and  to  show  that  the  prose 
cution  of  the  law  is  not  only  consistent  with  the  sincere 
profession  and  practice  of  Christianity,  but  that,  in  some 
particulars,  the  lawyer  enjoys  peculiar  advantages  for  at 
taining  eminent  usefulness  in  the  Christian  life. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  if  the  law  may  be 
practiced  at  all,  its  practitioner  is  called  upon  to  discharge 
its  duties  with  vigor  and  fidelity.  It  argues  neither  a 
Christian  heart  nor  a  Christian  head  to  falter  in  the  prose- 


126          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

cution  of  any  work  we  may  properly  undertake.  Energy 
and  striving  for  success  are  as  obligatory  upon  the  Chris 
tian  in  the  pursuit  of  lawful  secular  callings,  as  diligence 
and  fidelity  in  the  discharge  of  any  peculiarly  Christian 
duty.  If,  then,  the  Christian  may  be  a  lawyer,  he  should 
prosecute  his  profession  vigorously  and  earnestly;  he 
should  not  hesitate  to  meet  its  fall  responsibilities,  and  to 
discharge  them  all ;  and  if  the  life  of  the  Christian  be  in 
compatible  writh  the  energetic  discharge  of  the  lawyer's 
office,  duty  to  the  client,  duty  to  himself  demands  that  the 
Christian  lawyer  should  lay  aside  his  professional  robes, 
and  devote  himself  to  some  other  pursuit.  This  is  the 
practical  question  to  which  we  invite  attention ;  may  the 
Christian  practice  the  law  without  soiling  his  character,  or 
impairing  his  Christian  influence  ? 

There  is  nothing  essentially  variant  between  the  profes 
sion  of  Christianity  and  the  practice  of  the  law.  To  em 
brace  the  principles  of  the  one  does  not,  in  itself,  imply 
the  denial  of  the  principles  which  should  rule  in  the 
other.  So  far  as  human  laws  are  written  on  the  statute 
books  of  the  country,  or  have  been  unfolded  and  ex 
pounded  in  the  decisions  of  the  courts,  the  principles  which 
underlie  and  regulate  them  are  found  to  be,  are  design 
ed  to  be  modelled  after  and  built  upon  the  principles  of 
Divine  truth.  If  there  be  occasional  aberrations  from  the 
standard,  these  have  occurred,  not  from  intentional  disre 
gard  of  the  claims  of  the  a  higher  law,"  but  fronvmisin- 
terpretation  or  misapplication  of  the  test ;  and  as  fallible 
men  have  had  to  expound  and  interpret  the  statutes  and 
to  apply  in  practice  these  principles,  it  is  surely  not  with 
out  excuse  that  occasional  departures  from  their  true  de 
velopment  have  been  made — occasional  errors  committed. 

There  is  not  only  no  essential  variance  between  the  prin- 


CHRISTIANITY   IN  THK  LKUAL  PROFESSION.  127 

ciplcs  of  Christianity  arid  the  principles  which  should  rule 
in  the  practice  of  the  law  ;  there  arc  designed  coincidence 
and  harmony  between  them. 

In  civilized  countries  the  great  code  regulating  the 
dealings  of  man  with  man  is  the  code  contained  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  Variously  expressed  as  their  statutes 
have  been, — assuming  with  every  different  nation  and  peo 
ple  a  distinct  and  separate  form,  varying  according  to  the 
mental  habits,  and  circumstances  of  the  people  for  whose 
control  they  are  designed, — they  all  acknowledge,  and  are 
all  designed  to  inculcate,  obedience  to  the  Divine  law,  as 
promulgated  from  Mount  Sinai,  and  as  interpreted  by  the 
Infallible  Interpreter.  Let  a  man  but  obey  this  law,  in 
its  spirit  and  letter ;  and  ho  need  riot  fear  breaking  any  of 
the  positive  statutes,  or  running  counter  to  the  written  de 
cisions  of  the  courts  of  a  civilized  people.  Legislatures 
and  courts  alike  have  bowed  in  homage  to  the  Divine 
model ;  and  have  striven  to  make  their  enactments  arid 
their  rulings  conform  to  its  high  standard.  The  Common 
Law  of  England,  though  its  foundations  were  laid  in  a 
dark  arid  inauspicious  age,  haj  become  the  boast  of  law 
yers  and  statesmen,  and  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  An 
glo-Saxon  nice,  its  highest  and  happiest  accomplishment, 
in  a  history  crowded  with  wonderful  successes,  and  almost 
unexampled  fortunes.  No  wonder  that  it  was  cherished 
with  affectionate  remembrance  by  our  fathers ;  arid  though 
they  were  compelled  to  sever  the  national  bond  of 
union  between  them  and  the  mother  country,  no  wonder 
they  fondly  clung  to  this,  the  earliest  and  the  best  boon 
they  had  inherited.  Yet  after  all,  what  is  this  Com 
mon  Law,  which  law  writers  proudly  characterize  as  the 
highest  reason  ?  Whence  has  it  derived  its  splendor,  its 
justness  of  proportion,  its  solidity  of  principle,  arid  its 


128          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

practical  value  ?  From  what  source  has  it  received  the 
maxims  which  it  has  written  as  the  guide  of  the  courts  ? 
Whence  derived  the  canons  which  govern  and  control 
them  ?  When  we  assert  for  this  Common  Law  these  high 
claims,  we  are  not  asserting  them  as  due  to  its  intrinsic 
and  self-derived  excellence ;  we  are  only  commending  a 
glory  and  a  grace  which  are  reflected  from  it,  only  as  it 
has  imitated  and  embodied  the  principles  of  the  Divine 
law.  David  Hoffman,  in  his  excellent  treatise  on  a  course 
of  legal  study — a  work  distinguished  for  its  comprehen 
siveness  and  completeness — instructs  the  student  to  lay 
the  basis  of  his  legal  studies  by  securing  an  accurate  ac 
quaintance  with  the  Bible.  We  quote  his  language  : 

"  The  purity  and  sublimity  of  the  morals  of  the  Bible 
have  at  no  time  been  questioned  ;  it  is  the  foundation  of 
the  common  law  of  every  Christian  nation.  The  Chris 
tian  religion  is  a  part  of  the  law  of  the  land,  and,  as  such, 
should  certainly  receive  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  the 
lawyer's  attention.  In  vain  do  we  look  among  the 
writings  of  the  ancient  philosophers  for  a  system  of  moral 
law  comparable  with  that  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament. 
How  meagre  and  lifeless  are  even  the  '  Ethics'  of  Aristo 
tle,  the  '  Morals'  of  Seneca,  the  '  Memorabilia'  of  Xeno- 
phon,  or  the  '  Offices'  of  Cicero,  compared  with  it."  *  * 
*  "  If  treatises  on  morals  should  be  the  first  which 
are  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  student,  and  the  structure 
of  his  legal  education  should  be  raised  on  the  broad  and 
solid  foundation  of  ethics,  what  book  so  proper  to  be  thor 
oughly  studied  with  this  view,  if  no  other,  as  the  Bible. 
But  the  religion  and  morals  of  the  Scriptures  by  no  means 
constitute  the  only  claim  which  this  inestimable  volume 
possesses  on  the  earnest  attention  of  the  legal  student. 
There  is  much  law  in  it,  and  a  great  deal  which  sheds  more 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.  129 

than  a  glimmering  light  on  a  variety  of  legal  topics.  Polit 
ical  science  is  certainly  indebted  to  it  for  an  accurate  ac 
count  of  the  origin  of  society,  government,  and  pro 
perty.  The  subjects  of  marriage,  the  alienation  of  pro 
perty  inter  vivos,  its  acquisition  by  inheritance  and  bequest, 
the  obligation  of  an  oath,  the  relations  of  governor  and 
governed,  of  master  and  servant,  husband  and  wife,  the 
nature  and  punishment  of  a  variety  of  crimes  and  offences, 
as  murder,  theft,  adultery,  incest,  polygamy,  &c.,  the 
grounds  of  divorce,  &c.,  &c.,  still  receive  illustrations  from 
this  copious  source  ;  and  this  high  authority  is  often  ap 
pealed  to  by  legal  writers,  either  as  decisive  or  argumen 
tative  of  their  doctrines."  *  *  *  *  "  We  have  been 
thus  particular  on  the  subject  of  the  utility  of  the  Bible 
to  the  lawyer,  from  a  deep  conviction  that  its  ethics,  his 
tory  and  law  cannot  fail  of  being  eminently  serviceable  to 
him  ;  from  our  observation  that  young  lawyers  frequently 
read  any  other  book  but  this  ;  and,  lastly,  from  the  fact 
that  nearly  all  the  distinguished  lawyers  with  whom  we 
have  been  personally,  or  through  the  means  of  books,  or 
otherwise  acquainted,  have  not  only  professed  a  high  ven 
eration  for  Biblical  learning,  but  were  themselves  con 
siderably  versed  in  it.  Lord  Coke  had,  no  doubt,  made 
the  Scriptures  his  study,  long  before  Archbishop  Whitgift 
sent  him  a  copy  of  the  New  Testament,  with  a  request  that 
he,  who  had  so  thoroughly  mastered  the  Common  Law, 
should  study  the  law  of  God ;  be  this  as  it  may,  his 
writings  abound  with  arguments  and  illustrations  taken 
from  that  source.  The  names,  also,  of  Bacon,  Hale,  Holt, 
Jones,  Erskine,  Yates,  Grotius,  D'Aguessau,  and  very 
many  others,  who  have  testified  their  respect  for  this  knowl 
edge,  by  frequent  reference  to  the  sacred  volume ;  added 
to  the  like  tribute,  so  often  paid  to  it  by  poets  and  orators, 


130          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

were  a  sufficient  warrant,  if  one  were  needed,  for  the 
urgent  manner  in  which  I  press  this  subject  on  the  student's 
attention." 

Similar  recommendations  of  the  study  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures  are  given  in  every  respectable  treatise  on  the 
study  of  the  law.  The  uniformity  and  urgency  of  these 
commendations  at  least  show  that  legal  writers  have  never 
discovered  in  the  sacred  writings  anything  to  discourage,  or 
embarrass,  or  hinder  the  young  legal  student  in  the  pursuit 
of  his  profession  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  show  that  lawyers 
of  eminent  learning  and  experience  believe  that  the  prac 
titioner  will  be  better  equipped  for  the  successful  discharge 
of  his  duties  as  a  lawyer,  if  he  has  stored  his  mind  in 
youth  with  the  truths  of  the  Divine  Word,  mastered  its 
teachings,  and  familiarized  himself  with  its  principles. 
JSTor  will  it  be  objected,  we  are  sure,  that  these  writers  are 
wanting  in  perspicacity.  In  claiming  for  the  legal  profes 
sion  the  power  to  understand  their  true  interests,  we  are 
but  claiming  what  every  one  will,  without  argument,  ac 
knowledge. 

There  is,  moreover,  no  external  circumstance  attending 
the  study  of  the  law,  in  itself  considered,  preventing  the 
prosecution  of  Biblical  and  religious  truth. 

The  professional  student  may  be  helped  in  his  legal 
studies  by  the  prosecution  of  religious  studies;  he  will  hardly 
be  hindered  by  them.  A  too  great  devotion  to  strictly 
professional  treatises  has  in  some  instances,  doubtless,  con 
tributed  to  divert  the  attention  of  the  legal  scholar  from 
the  claims  of  the  Holy  Scrptures ;  but  this  may  be  object 
ed  as  well  to  every  other  engrossing  science ;  whether 
geology,  astronomy,  chemistry  or  botany,  or  leaving  the 
departments  of  natural  science,  whether  one's  studies 
incline  to  metaphysics,  strictly  so-called,  or  to  the  belles 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.          131 

lettres.  Many  of  these,  we  know,  have  sometimes  fully 
occupied  the  time  and  attention  of  those  whose  chief 
business  it  should  have  been  to  study  and  to  preach  the 
Gospel.  If  we  would  then  discountenance  the  study  of 
the  law,  because  in  some  instances  its  prosecution  has  hin 
dered  growth  in  spiritual  knowledge,  consistency  requires 
that  we  should  discourage  the  prosecution  of  the  sciences 
and  arts,  and  indeed  every  occupation  or  study  of  life  not 
strictly  and  technically  religious.  The  critical  objector  to 
the  practice  of  the  law  would  hardly  insist  on  carrying  out 
his  principles  to  consistent  conclusions,  if  he  should  there 
by  peril  or  destroy  his  own  pursuit.  He  would  find  the 
claims  of  Divine  philosophy  not  altogether  so  exacting 
and  so  exclusive  as  he  had  been  accustomed  to  believe.  To 
nourish  and  sustain  the  "little  ones  at  home"  he  would 
speedily  know  to  be  of  as  lasting  obligation,  and,  perhaps, 
of  as  high  character,  as  the  most  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  Divine  teaching. 

So  far,  also,  as  the  study  of  the  law  is  a  mental  exercise, 
calling  for  the  use  of  the  highest  powers  of  the  mind,  for 
severe  analysis,  for  the  accurate  investigation  and  elimina 
tion  of  principles,  and  their  practical  application  to  human 
relations  and  duties,  so  far  will  it  prove  of  advantage  in  en 
abling  one  to  know  religious  truth,  and  to  understand  how 
to  apply  it.  No  one  will  question  that  the  lawyer  is  ad 
vantaged  in  a  mental  and  moral  point  of  view  by  his  fre 
quent  application  of  moral  principles  to  human  conduct. 
This  is  an  important  item,  and  ought  not  to  be  neglected 
in  making  our  estimate  of  the  peculiar  facilities  of  the  bar. 
We  call  attention  to  the  fact  here,  simply  to  show  the  su 
perior  vantage  ground  of  the  lawyer  as  a  hearer  of  reli 
gious  truth. 

Every  minister  of  the  Gospel  has  experienced  a  difficulty 


132          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

in  securing  attention  to  the  doctrines  he  proclaims.  The 
people  lack  consideration.  It  is  very  hard  work  to  think ; 
— to  think  on  new  topics  when  totally  new,  to  continue  to 
think  on  old  topics,  when  very  old.  We  would  account  it 
strange,  were  we  not-  so  familiar  with  the  fact,  that  the 
minister  encounters  both  these  difficulties  in  nearly  every 
congregation  he  addresses.  Some  of  his  auditors  have 
never  seriously  thought  upon  the  topic  he  discusses  ;  to  them 
his  teachings  are  misty  and  confused,  and  the  impressions 
received  dim  and  imperfect.  Others  have  thought  upon 
the  truths  so  often,  have  heard  them  handled  and  applied 
so  often,  that  they  have  become  old  and  trite.  The  lawyer 
— the  true  lawyer  will  not  generally  be  found  in  either 
class.  He  has  learned  by  continual  and  repeated  practice, 
to  grasp  a  novel  subject  in  all  its  relations,  and  he  follows 
with  delight  the  preacher  into  new  fields  of  thought :  and 
is  gratified  by  the  amplest  range  and  largest  discourse. 
He  will  know  too  how  to  value  the  old ;  and  will  not  un- 
frequently,  while  a  hearer,  contribute  from  his  own  stores 
of  thought,  or  by  some  practical  and  recent  experience  in 
illustration  of  its  truth,  invest  the  teachings  of  the  pulpit 
with  freshness  and  power.  When  attendants  on  the  min 
istry,  we  may  claim  for  the  bar  that  they  are  attentive  and 
appreciative  hearers. 

While  what  we  have  stated  is  conceded  to  be  true  ;  and 
the  probability  of  Christian  sentiment  at  the  bar,  if  there 
were  no  hindrances  in  the  way,  is  also  conceded ;  it  is 
objected  that  the  facts  tell  on  the  contrary  side  of  the  ques 
tion  ;  that  legal  men  are  not  often  professedly  religious ; 
that  the  large  majority  of  them  acknowledge  no  allegiance 
to  Divine  truth,  neither  obey  it  themselves  nor  encourage 
its  obedience  in  others  ;  that  among  them  infidelity  num 
bers  its  advocates,  and  that  a  practical  and  a  theoretic  dis- 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.          133 

regard  of  the  claims  of  Christianity  is  the  rule,  and  not  the 
exception ;  and  indeed,  it  is  further  objected  that  this  dis 
regard  of  Christian  obligation  is  not  a  mere  accident  of 
the  profession,  but  one  of  its  essentials,  the  due  discharge 
of  legal  duties  requiring  a  sacrifice  of  Christian  principle. 
If  the  latter  branch  of  this  charge  be  true,  attempts  to 
defend  the  practice  of  the  law  would  be  vain,  and  the  ne 
cessary  and  consistent  conclusion  would  be  that  pure  mor 
als  and  a  regard  to  the  public  welfare  would  demand  the 
suppression  of  the  legal  profession.  Is  it  true  ? 

In  proof  of  its  truth,  the  objector  cites  the  familiar  ex 
ample  of  an  advocate's  defence  of  a  criminal  known  to 
be  guilty.  He  says  that  such  a  defence  is  always  immoral 
and  utterly  incompatible  with  Christian  character, 

We  shall  test  the  soundness  of  this  declaration :  but 
before  passing  condemnation  upon  the  bar,  let  us  see  what 
are  their  teachings  upon  the  point.  To  begin  with  the 
work  of  Mr.  Brown  : 

"  The  best  system  of  forensic  ethics  or  moral  philosophy, 
as  applied  to  the  legal  duties  of  men,  is  of  Divine  authori 
ty  ;  'Do  unto  others  as  you  would  be  done  by  ;'  that  is, 
as  you  justly  deserve  to  be  done  by ;  '  Love  your  neighbors 
(or  your  clients)  as  yourself;'  which  means,  do  the  same 
justice  to  them  that  in  their  condition  you  would  be  right 
ly  entitled  to  expect — you  are  not  to  do  more  for  them 
than  you  would  rightly  expect ;  nor  to  love  them  better 
than  yourself — not  to  sacrifice  your  conscience  or  your 
heavenly  hope  to  them." 

Again  : 

c  "VVe  repeat  it,  a  lawyer  is  bound  to  refuse  a  case  that 
he  believes  to  be  dishonest,  or  to  retire  from  it  the  mo 
ment  he  discovers  it  to  be  so.  And  he  is  also  bound  to 
avoid  litigation,  unless  it  is  necessary  and  when  unneces- 


134          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

sary  or  unavoidable,  always  to  adopt  the  least  offensive 
means  for  bringing  it  to  a  satisfactory  result.  The  law  is 
the  handmaid  of  justice,  and  in  its  administration  should 
never  be  attended  with  undue  severity  or  malevolence." 

Again  : 

"  A  lawyer  has  a  right  to  take  all  the  advantage  his 
learning  and  talents  afford  him,  in  order  to  sustain  a  good 
cause  or  defeat  a  corrupt  one :  but  he  has  no  right  to  sub 
stitute  his  talents  or  learning  for  the  honesty  of  a  case, 
and  thereby  render  iniquity  triumphant.  When  he  has 
doubts  as  to  the  correctness  of  his  position,  he  may  fairly 
incline  in  favor  of  the  party  he  represents,  and  sustain  his 
views  by  every  authority  and  fact  that  the  law  or  evidence 
may  supply,  leaving  it  of  course  to  the  court  and  jury  to 
ratify  or  reject  them.  He  is  not  to  decide  the  case,  nor 
is  he  morally  answerable  for  the  correctness  of  its  deci 
sion  ;  but  he  is  answerable  for  the  correctness  of  the  mo 
tives  by  which  he  is  influenced." 

Judge  Sharswood's  testimony  is  to  the  like  effect,  and, 
indeed,  every  legal  writer  of  eminence  and  learning  has 
taught  the  same  doctrines. 

In  making  these  citations  from  legal  authorities  on  the 
ethics  of  the  bar,  we  shall  not  be  accused  of  introducing 
testimony  which  ought  not  to  be  regarded.  Had  these 
works  been  written  as  defences  of  the  bar,  we  might  sus 
pect  the  sincerity  of  the  testimony ;  but  they  were  written 
for  no  such  purpose  ;  they  were  designed  for  those  who 
had  already  determined  upon,  or  were  actively  engaged  in 
the  pursuit  of  the  profession  ;  and  they  show  the  animus 
of  the  profession  in  its  claims  to  sincerity  and  just  deal 
ing,  as  much  as  the  ordinary  conversation  and  tone  of  re 
mark  of  a  private  individual  would  disclose  more  aptly 
than  in  any  other  way,  his  personal  character. 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.  135 

But  while  legal  writers  teach  thus  decidedly  and  em 
phatically  the  duty  of  the  lawyer,  not  willingly  to  under 
take  the  espousal  of  an  unjust  cause — one  that  he  knows 
to  be  unjust,  and  with  the  view  to  forward  or  protect  in 
justice — much  diversity  of  opinion  exists  among  them,  as 
to  the  obligation  a  lawyer  is  under  to  a  client  whose  cause 
he  may  lawfully  espouse.  Some,  but  very  few,  maintain 
with  Lord  Brougham  in  his  famous  defence  of  queen  Caro 
line,  that  "  an  advocate,  by  the  sacred  duty  he  owes  his 
client,  knows,  in  the  discharge  of  that  office,  but  one  per 
son  in  the  world — his  client  and  none  others," — that  "to 
save  his  client  by  all  expedient  means  ;  to  protect  that 
client  at  all  hazards  and  costs  to  all  others,  and  amongst 
others  to  himself,  is  the  highest  and  most  unquestionable 
of  his  duties  ;"  and  that  "he  must  not  regard  the  alarm, 
the  suffering,  the  torment,  the  destruction  which  he  may 
bring  upon  any  other."  "We  know  of  none,  however,  who 
would  adopt  the  further  sentiment  of  this  distinguished 
lord,  when  he  adds,  that  "  separating  even  the  duties  of 
a  patriot  from  those  of  an  advocate,  and  casting  them,  if 
need  be,  to  the  winds,  the  advocate  must  go  on  reckless 
of  the  consequences,  if  his  fate  it  should  unhappily  be, 
to  involve  his  country  in  confusion  for  his  client's  protec 
tion."  Others,  however,  and  the  larger  and  more  consid 
erate  part,  adopt  the  sentiments  of  Hale :  "  I  never 
thought,"  says  that  distinguished  jurist  and  Christian, 
"  I  never  thought  that  my  profession  should  either  neces 
sitate  a  man  to  use  his  eloquence,  by  extenuations  or  ag 
gravations,  to  make  anything  look  worse  or  better  than  it 
deserves,  or  could  justify  a  man  in  it;  to  prostitute  my 
eloquence  or  rhetoric  in  such  a  way,  I  ever  held  to  be 
most  basely  mercenary,  and  that  it  was  below  the  worth 
of  a  man,  much  more  a  Christian  to  do  so." 


136          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

We  can  not  suppose  that  Lord  Brougham's  remarks  ex 
pressed  the  deliberate  results  of  his  ripe  judgment.  They 
were  uttered  in  the  progress  of  a  trial  of  unusual  interest 
and  importance ;  one  which  might  have  hurried  a  speaker 
of  even  cooler  and  more  dispassionate  consideration  than 
himself  into  extravagance  of  statement.  If  such  senti 
ments  were  generally  adopted,  no  one  can  doubt  that 
justice  would  be  corrupted  at  its  sources,  and  then, 
indeed,  would  he  be  a  bold  advocate  who  should  under 
take  the  defence  of  the  bar  and  endeavor  to  commend 
the  practice  of  the  law  as  a  high  and  honorable  and 
Christian  calling.  While  duty  demands  the  exercise 
of  the  best  gifts  with  which  the  advocate  is  endow 
ed  by  his  Maker,  and  their  exercise  to  the  utmost  ex 
tent,  it  has  never  required — it  never  will  require,  that 
he  should  plead  the  cause  of  injustice,  or  espouse  the 
defence  of  iniquity.  Strictly  consonant  is  this  remark 
with  the  further  one,  that  even  the  guilty  man  should  be 
defended.  Guilty  as  he  is,  the  law  annexes  to  his  guilt 
but  a  certain  penalty ;  and  the  infliction  of  a  penalty 
variant  from  that  either  in  character  or  degree,  would  be 
a  clear  violation  of  justice,  and  of  the  plainest  dictates  of 
right.  He  needs,  then,  an  advisor  and  defender  to  pro 
tect  him  from  the  unjust  infliction  of  a  severer  penalty 
than  he  deserves ;  and  the  Christian  lawyer  may  rightly 
assume  his  defence  for  that  purpose.  It  is  equally  true 
that  even  guilt  had  better  go  unpunished,  than  that  the 
solemn  sanctions  and  safeguards  the  law  has  thrown 
around  the  lives  and  liberties  of  people  should  be  violated. 
And  so,  when  in  order  to  execute  speedily  upon  the  cul 
prit  the  extreme  penalties  of  the  law,  lynch-law  is  restored 
to,  every  just-minded  and  reasonable  and  law-loving  citizen 
exclaims  against  the  outrage — even  though  the  object  of 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.  137 

it  be  notoriously  guilty  of  crimes  of  deepest  malignity.  If 
in  popular  outbreaks  thus  characterized,  the  guilty  are 
punished  without  the  law  and  against  the  law,  and  the 
punishment  is  thus  decried  as  unjust  and  iniquitous,  it  is 
true,  also,  that  when  any  of  the  barriers  erected  for  the 
protection  of  life  and  liberty  are  disregarded  by  a  yielding 
or  timid  judiciary,  or  removed  by  a  truculent  and  trim 
ming  bar,  and  even  the  guilty  are  punished,  a  wrong  is 
done — an  injury  is  inflicted  which  the  culprit  may  not 
only  complain  of,  but  the  body  of  the  people  as  well.  The 
honour  of  the  State,  the  vindication  of  justice,  and  the 
lives  and  liberties  of  the  citizens  are  as  much  concerned 
in  the  proper  defence  of  the  accused  culprit  at  the  bar,  as 
in  his  due  prosecution  and  conviction  by  legal  means,  by 
the  prosecuting  attorney ;  and  a  high  philosophy  and  a 
profound  knowledge  of  the  question  in  its  diversified  rela 
tions,  would  teach  us  that  we  are  as  much  interested  in  the 
one  as  in  the  other.  Take,  for  example,  the  case  of  a  man 
indicted  for  murder.  He  has  been  guilty  of  an  atrocious 
crime.  He  deserves  to  suffer  the  extreme  penalty  of  the 
law  ;  but  he  must  suffer  it  in  a  legal  way.  He  is  a  freeman, 
entitled  under  the  laws  to  be  tried  by  a  jury  of  his  peers 
— his  equals.  Did  a  jury  of  slaves  sit  upon  his  trial,  a 
verdict  of  guilty  might  be  returned  against  him,  or  with 
out  a  verdict,  the  judge  might  pronounce  the  sentence  of 
execution,  but  in  neither  case  ought  the  law  or  justice  to 
sanction  it.  He  is  entitled  to  be  confronted  with  his  ac 
cusers.  A  conviction  obtained  by  testimony  secured  pri 
vately,  apart  from  his  presence,  and  without  offering  him 
an  opportunity  to  test  the  accuracy  of  memory,  or  the  vera 
city  of  the  witness,  would  be  unjust,  and  such  a  conviction 
ought  not  to  stand.  He  is  entitled  to  have  his  triers  sworn 
or  solemnly  affirmed,  before  passing  upon  the  question  of 
10 


138  CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

his  life  or  death.  If  they  are  not,  and  they  convict,  the 
conviction  is,  it  ought  to  be  naught.  He  is  entitled  to  a 
speedy  trial,  while  the  recollection  of  witnesses  is  fresh, 
and  the  circumstances  attending  the  fact,  preceding  or 
following  it,  may  be  accurately  detailed — while  his  own 
witnesses  are  living  and  may  be  had.  If  his  trial  be  un 
reasonably  delayed,  and  the  facts  have  faded  from  the 
memory,  and  witnesses  have  died  or  removed  to  distant 
places,  beyond  the  reach  of  the  court,  and  he  is  convicted 
because  of  their  absence  or  death,  the  conviction  is  unjust, 
and  should  be  annulled.  Last  of  all,  he  is  entitled  to  an 
acquittal  until  he  is  proved  to  be  guilty r,  and  if  the  proof 
fails,  and  the  judge,  pressed  by  outside  popular  sentiment, 
or  thirsting  for  blood,  or  influenced  by  the  moral  convic 
tion  of  guilt  upon  his  own  mind,  either  by  actions  or  by 
words,  either  in  admitting  improper  testimony  or  rejecting 
that  which  is  proper,  influences  the  mind  of  the  jury 
wrong,  and  they  convict,  and  the  man  is  hung — the  cul 
prit  is  judicially  murdered ! — he  has  suffered  a  penalty 
the  law  did  not  demand,  and  his  execution  should  be  re 
garded  with  no  higher  favour  than  if,  immediately  upon  the 
commission  of  the  crime,  a  fierce  and  angry  populace  had 
hurried  him  to  the  gallows  without  the  mockery  of  an 
unjust  trial.  In  all  these  steps,  the  man  needs  assistance. 
To  protect  him  in  his  rights  he  should  have  the  counsel 
and  aid  of  those  who  know  his  rights,  and  who  will  main 
tain  them.  Who  shall  say  that  the  Christian  lawyer,  in 
such  a  case,  owes  it  not  to  himself  and  to  the  ordinary  law 
of  humanity,  to  the  cardinal  rule  of  love  to  his  neighbour, 
laid  down  specifically  by  the  Saviour,  to  undertake  the  cause 
of  the  culprit,  and  to  guard  for  him  his  rights  ?  Rights  he 
has  ;  the  law  has  guaranteed  them  to  him ;  the  culprit  is 
wronged,  he  is  unjustly  dealt  with,  if  they  be  taken  away. 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.          139 

This  is  an  extreme  case,  and  one  usually  put  to  the  law 
yer  as  a  test  of  conscience.  We  have  seen  that  to  espouse 
even  such  a  cause  is  not  beyond  excuse  ;  that  in  fact  it  is 
right.  AVe  confess  that  we  cannot  see  that  a  judicial  trial 
and  conviction  by  any  unfair  or  unlawful  means,  and  sub 
sequent  punishment,  differ  from  an  execution  by  lynch-law; 
or  if  there  be  differences,  that  they  are  not  in  favour  of 
lynch-law,  for  while  the  process  of  lynching  must,  from 
the  necessity  of  the  case,  be  notorious,  and  of  infrequent  and 
extraordinary  occurrence,  judicial  murderings  without  law 
or  evidence,  might  be  perpetrated  in  secret  and  without 
responsibility  !  If  prisoners  are  protected  by  appropriate 
counsel,  such  cases  will  infrequently  occur  :  if  they  are 
wholly  undefended,  their  numbers  would  be  greatly  en 
larged. 

Mr.  Brown  mentions  a  remarkable  case  in  which  an  inno 
cent  man  narrowly  escaped  final  conviction,  though  without 
the  leanings  of  the  court  against  him,  and  though  defended 
by  counsel.  The  case  was  this :  "  Van  Vliet,  the  defendant, 
was  prosecuted  for  having  stolen  three  thousand  dollars  in 
foreign  gold,  (sovereigns.)  The  prosecutrix  swore  that 
she  had  that  amount  of  money  which  she  had  been  col 
lecting  for  a  long  time  :  that  the  prisoner  upon  one  occa 
sion  introduced  himself  into  her  house,  under  pretence  of 
desiring  to  buy  old  watches  or  jewelry ;  that  at  the  time 
he  entered,  she  was  engaged  in  counting  her  gold;  but 
put  it  in  her  bureau  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  down  an 
old  watch ;  that  when  she  came  down,  after  a  few  minutes 
conversation  the  prisoner  left  the  house,  and  upon  her  then 
going  to  the  drawer,  the  gold  was  gone.  She  swore,  also, 
to  the  identity  of  the  prisoner,  who  was  a  Frenchman, 
and  speaking  very  broken  English,  and  somewhat  deform 
ed  in  person. 


140          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

The  next  witness  was  a  confederate,  who  testified 
that  he  knew  the  defendant,  and  had  lived  with  him  about 
two  weeks;  that  on  the  day  of  the  alleged  loss  of  money, 
the  defendant  came  home  and  had  with  him  a  large  quan 
tity  of  gold,  of  the  description  sworn  to ;  that  they  count 
ed  it  together,  and  that  the  number  of  sovereigns  exactly 
corresponded  with  the  amount  lost ;  that  the  day  after, 
these  sovereigns  were  melted  down  by  the  mint,  and  that 
the  product  in  new  American  coinage,  was  handed  over 
to  the  defendant.  The  officer  of  the  mint  proved  the 
melting,  and  the  payment  to  the  defendant.  The  new 
coin  was  all  found  on  the  person  of  the  defendant. 

Now,  upon  this  testimony  what  could  be  plainer  than 
the  guilt  of  the  defendant  ? 

The  defendant  was  a  stranger — he  denied  his  guilt ;  no 
body  knew  him.  He  averred  he  had  brought  the  money 
from  Liverpool — produced  some  little  evidence  that  he 
had  such  money  on  his  arrival.  But  this  would  not  do  ; 
he  was  convicted,  and  the  money  was  about  passing  into 
the  hands  of  the  prosecutrix. 

Newly  discovered  testimony  was  the  ground  of  motion 
for  a  new  trial.  The  new  trial  was  granted,  and  by  con 
sent  of  the  Attorney-General,  a  commission  issued  to 
England. 

Upon  the  second  trial,  it  appeared  that  the  prosecu 
trix  had  no  such  money. 

That  the  defendant  had  received  English  sovereigns  for 
French  gold,  in  Liverpool.  That  he  had  employed  the 
confederate  to  interpret  for  him  for  two  weeks,  and  had 
counted  the  money  with  him,  and  then  carried  it  to  the 
mint,  and  obtained  in  lieu  American  gold.  That  having 
dismissed  his  interpreter,  that  person  concocted  the  above 
scheme,  with  the  prosecutrix,  for  the  purpose  of  gratify- 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.          141 

ing  his  revenge,  obtaining  the  money,  and   dividing  the 
spoils. 

He  was,  of  course,  acquitted." 

Had  not  this  man  been  assisted  by  counsel,  he  would 
doubtless  have  been  condemned  and  punished  as  a  felon. 
Having  disproved  the  charge   of  immorality,  when   al 
leged  as  an  universal  fact  in  relation  to  the  defence  of  a 
known   criminal,  we   are  now  ready  to  examine  into  that 
branch  of  the  objection  urged  against  the  bar,  which  char 
ges  them  with  the  neglect  of  Christianity.     It  is  too  true 
that  as  a   class  legal  men  are  not  peculiarly  distinguish 
ed   for  Christian  character.      While   not   falling  ,behind 
others  in   contributing    its  quota   of   excellent    Christian 
men,   the   legal  profession  has   not,   in    proportion  to  its 
superior  advantages,  multiplied   the   numbers  of  sincere 
and  devoted  Christians.     The  fact  is,  there  are  hindrances 
not  a  few  to   Christian  devotion  among  barristers.     The 
prevailing  tone  of  sentiment  of  leading  men  in  the  profes 
sion   seems  to  discourage   a  high  degree   of  spirituality, 
and,  indeed,  all  spirituality  whatever.     In  some  circles,  and 
those  too  claiming  respectability  and  influence,  the  name  of 
Christian  is  flouted,  or  spoken  of  in  light  and  irreverential 
terms.     Unfortunately,  it  is  too   true  that  there  are  very 
many  at  the  bar  who  willingly  unite  in  unjust  and  harsh  crit 
icisms  of  barristers  who  profess  Christianity.     This  is  prac 
tical  skepticism.    Besides,  skepticism  and  infidelity  in  theo 
ry,  are  openly  avowed  and  defended.  There  are  not  a  few  who 
are  led  into  these  delusions  by  a  desire  for  the  reputation  of 
superior  sagacity ;  and  others  have  learned  to  repeat  by  rote 
the  ordinary  objections  to  the  Christian  religion,  and  to 
dwell  with  apparent  satisfaction  upon  the  errors  and  in 
consistencies  of  professors   of   Christianity.     All  this  is 
beyond  question  true  ;  and  the  Christian  barrister  is  often 


142          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

tempted  to  believe  he  encounters  more  discouragements  in 
his  Christian  life  than  he  would  do,  were  he  engaged  in 
any  other  pursuit. 

Many  of  the  har  do,  as  we  have  said,  pay  an  outward 
and  decent  respect  to  the  observances  of  the  house  of  wor 
ship.     Many,  however,  on   the  other  hand,  regard  public 
worship  as  but  a  veil  to  conceal  hypocrisy,  and  cover  over 
deformities  of  heart  and  life.     It  is  here,  perhaps,  that  the 
barrister  is  more  peculiarly  exposed  than  in  other  profes 
sions.     He  has  in  active  practice  such  frequent  occasions 
of  detecting  the  covert  motives  of  men.     Daily,  almost 
hourly,  disclosures  of  insincerity  and   double-dealing   are 
made  known  to  him;  in  some  instances  affecting  those  who 
hold  high  positions  in  the  community,  men  whose  honesty 
and  integrity  are  unquestioned ;  in  other  instances,  attack 
ing  the  fair  name  of  Christian  professors.     These  are  but 
too  well  calculated  to  make  the  lawyer  a  skeptic  in  the 
matter  of  sincerity  and  to  cause  him  to   doubt  whether 
the  observances  of  the  Christian  temple,  and  the  seeming 
worship  of  an  Infinite  God  are  not  mere  cloaks  to  con 
ceal  lives  of  impurity  and  dishonesty.     If  lawyers  doubt 
more   the   sincerity    of    Christian   worship,  it  is  attribu 
table  to  the  fact  that  they  see  more  in  daily  life  to  shake 
their  confidence  in  the  integrity  of  their  fellows.     Sadly 
true  is  it  that  each  of  them  has  a  tale  to  unfold — a  chap 
ter  of  experiences  to  disclose,  which  would  make  many  a 
professing   Christian  blench  before  his  fellows,  and  drive 
from  the  communion  table  many  who  with  sanctimonious 
air  and  solemn    countenance,  now  outwardly  partake   of 
the  sacred  elements,  without  having  inwardly  experienced 
the  grace  of  which  they  are  at  once  the  type  and  the  en 
couragement.     It  is,  too,  a  matter  of  sufficient  importance 
to  note  that  the  lawyer,  more  perhaps  than  one  engaged 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.          143 

in  any  other  calling — certainly  more  than  any  class  whose 

life  is  not  so  exclusively  devoted  to  subjects  of  thought 

discovers  in  a  nasal  tone  and  canting  phrase  neither  elo 
quence  nor  sanctity ;  but  is  sometimes  deterred  from  the 
regular  attendance  upon  a  ministry  whose  chief  recom 
mendation  consists  in  these  very  questionable  attainments. 
John  Foster  has  shown,  however,  that  this  aversion  is  not 
exclusively  confined  to  members  of  the  bar ;  that  intelli 
gent  men  of  all  classes  are  sometimes  driven  from  a  de 
cent  respect  for  the  worship  of  Jehovah  because  of  the 
ignorance  of  His  worshippers.  True,  intelligent  men  are 
guilty  of  ill  logic  in  this.  They  should  reason  that  the 
adoration  of  an  Infinite  God  ought  not  to  depend  upon 
the  feeble  and  imperfect  devotions  of  men  confessedly  ig 
norant  ;  but  after  all  that  is  said,  that  can  be  said  upon 
the  point,  even  the  most  thoughtful  are  swayed  more  by 
these  external  exhibitions  of  Christianity  than  by  any 
amount  of  abstract  truth.  Let  us  point  such,  however,  to 
the  career  of  one  who  began  as  a  contemner  of  Jesus  and 
persecutor  of  the  saints,  who  subsequently  became  a  zeal 
ous  defender  of  the  Gospel,  and  who  with  a  force  of  logic 
almost  unparalleled,  and  eloquence  at  once  simple  and  im 
pressive,  reasoned  with  the  men  of  Athens,  caused  guilty 
Felix  to  tremble  upon  his  throne,  and  compelled  from 
Agrippa  the  surprising  confession,  "  Almost  thou  persuad- 
est  me  to  be  a  Christian;"  a  man  of  faith  and  power,  of 
energy  of  character,  and  sincerity  of  purpose ;  with  whom 
the  life  of  the  Christian  was  a  reality, — to  the  apostle  of 
the  Gentiles.  Or,  if  a  higher  example  be  needed,  let  us 
point  them  for  imitation  to  the  perfect  life  of  Jesus,  the 
son  of  Mary,  as  the  model,  and  challenge  at  once  their 
respect  and  their  love  for  his  faultless  character. 

Why,  in  the  nature   of  things,   we  again   ask,  may  not 


144          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

the  lawyer  be  the  sincere  and  devout  Christian  ?  We  have 
already  shown  that  there  is  nothing  essentially  variant 
between  the  profession  of  Christianity  and  the  practice  of 
the  law  ;  that  so  far  from  there  being  such  variance,  there 
is  a  designed  coincidence  and  harmony  between  them  ; 
that  the  study  of  the  sacred  Scriptures  is  enjoined  upon 
the  young  professional  student  as  a  fit  preparation  for  the 
solemn  and  responsible  duties  of  the  bar  ;  and  that  while, 
on  the  one  hand,  there  is  no  external  circumstance  attend 
ing  the  study  of  the  law,  in  itself  considered,  preventing 
the  prosecution  of  biblical  and  religious  truth,  on  the  other, 
the  mere  study  and  practice  of  the  law  as  a  mental  exer 
cise,  calling  for  the  use  of  the  highest  powers  of  the  mind 
in  severe  analysis,  in  the  investigation  and  elimination  of 
principles,  and  in  their  practical  application  to  human  re 
lations,  will  help  and  not  hinder  the  student  of  the  law  in 
his  study  of  the  truths  contained  in  the  Word  of  God,  and 
cause  him  to  be  more  profited  by  the  teachings  of  the  Gos 
pel  minister,  following  him  with  delight  into  new  realms 
of  thought,  and  investing  by  his  daily  experience  even 
trite  themes  with  freshness  and  force.  We  have  also  shown, 
that  while  Infidelity  has  reared  its  head  among  barristers, 
it  has  done  the  same  no  less  boldly  in  other  pursuits  in 
life ;  and  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  daily  exercise  of  the 
profession,  even  in  the  defence  of  criminals  justly  found 
guilty,  to  cause  the  Christian  lawyer  to  swerve  from  the 
pursuit  of  right ;  why  then,  we  ask,  may  not  the  lawyer 
be  sincere  and  devout  as  a  Christian?  Do  hindrances  be 
set  him  ? — the  like  encompass  the  goings  of  every  man. 
Do  peculiar  temptations  try  him  ? — peculiar  powers  and 
gifts  to  resist  them  are  his.  Does  the  prevailing  tone  of 
a  bar,  half-enlightened  and  with  no  Christian  sentiment  to 
curb  them,  in  any  wise  hinder  his  advancement  in  the 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.          145 

Christian  life  ? — he  would  find  the  same  in  all  departments 
of  business,  in  every  employment.  We  see  then  nothing 
to  deter  the  Christian  from  the  proper  pursuit  of  the  pro 
fession,  and  nothing  to  keep  the  lawyer  from  being  a 
Christian  in  devotion  and  life.  But  we  must  not  content 
ourself  with  this  merely  negative  argument  in  behalf  of 
Christianity.  Independently  of  considerations  which 
might  be  profitably  addressed  to  the  bar,  in  commcn  with 
other  classes,  Christianity  has  its  peculiar  and  positive 
claims  upon  the  barrister,  of  manifold  and  urgent  charac 
ter,  and  demanding  his  earnest  attention. 

The  lawyer  is  a  minister  of  justice.  His  practical  deal 
ings  with  men  and  with  human  motives  are  mainly  design 
ed  to  further  this  end.  In  the  prosecution,  as  in  the  de 
fence  of  causes,  this  is,  it  ought  to  be  his  chief,  and  only 
purpose.  And  in  furthering  justice,  he  not  only  regulates 
the  motives  and  actions  of  men  by  human  law,  but  applies 
as  well  the  sanctions  of  the  divine  law.  He  finds,  as  we 
have  already  said,  the  most  powerful  motives  furnished  by 
these  sanctions. 

Will  he  wisely  apply  to  the  conduct  of  others  a  test 
which  his  own  will  not  stand  ?  Will  he  willingly  measure 
the  motives  of  parties,  and  the  responsibility  and  credi 
bility  of  witnesses  by  their  regard  to  moral  duty,  while  he 
himself  disregards  it  ?  Will  he  utter  as  decisively  true, 
and  as  not  admitting  of  contradiction  or  doubt,  that  the 
Infidel  is  unworthy  of  credit ;  and  shall  he  be  an  Infidel  ? 
Aye  more,  will  he  vindicate  the  claims  of  human  justice, 
and  demand  the  enforcement  of  its  penalties,  while  he  dis 
regards  and  disavows  the  claims  of  Divine  justice  ?  True, 
we  have  seen  such  anomalies  ;  but  are  such  persons  con 
sistent  ?  Do  they  act  wisely  or  well  ?  Will  they — can 
they  plead  in  extenuation  of  their  conduct  any  plea  which 


146          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

would  be  received  by  the  candid  and  intelligent  ?  We  ask, 
in  all  sincerity,  what  right  have  such  men  to  prefer  for 
themselves  the  claim  of  wisdom  and  right-thinking  ?  Ought 
they  not  to  be  covered  with  confusion,  when  these  glaring 
inconsistencies  of  conduct  are  brought  to  view  ? 

As  a  teacher  of  moral  truth,  then, — an  expounder  of 
the  laws  (which  are  but  moral  truths  condensed)  in  their 
applications  to  the  varying  circumstances  of  life,  we  call 
upon  the  lawyer  to  be  a  Christian.  We  will  not  say  he 
may  not  properly  discharge  some  of  the  offices  of  a  law 
yer  without  being  a  Christian  ;  we  will  say  he  cannot  prop 
erly  discharge  all  of  them  without  it.  Weight  of  charac 
ter  necessary  for  making  due  impression  upon  the  minds 
of  men,  for  influencing  aright  courts  as  well  as  juries,  in 
some  measure  may  be  secured  outside  of  the  Christian 
Church ;  but  it  will  not  be  denied  that  the  mere  worldly- 
minded  barrister,  the  frequenter  of  feasts  and  revelry,  the 
champion  of  gambling  clubs  and  race-courses,  is  less  likely 
to  secure  confidence,  and  command  respect  in  his  vocation 
than  the  Christian.  One  not  in  the  habit  of  attending 
courts  might  be  surprised  at  the  potency  of  moral  charac 
ter — might  stagger  at  the  assertion  that  as  much  depends 
upon  the  confidence  of  a  judge  or  jury  in  the  truthfulness 
of  the  advocate,  as  upon  the  merits  of  his  cause.  To  se 
cure  our  rights,  to  vindicate  justice,  it  is  not  unfrequently 
of  paramount  necessity  that  we  should  have  one  espouse 
our  defence  who  can  secure  confidence  not  only  in  his  abil 
ity,  but  also  in  his  integrity ;  and  Avho  so  likely  to  com 
mand  respect  and  to  ensure  success,  as  the  Christian  law 
yer  who,  by  a  life  of  devotedness  to  the  right,  has  won  for 
himself  the  confidence  of  the  community?  If  then,  as  is 
undoubtedly  true,  weight  of  character  is  an  essential  in 
gredient  in  the  successful  prosecution  of  the  profession, 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

and  if  to  enforce  one's  views  of  truth  and  to  vindicate  jus 
tice,  he  ought  in  his  own  life  to  exemplify  its  excellence, 
may  not  the  lawyer  earnestly  covet,  even  for  success  in 
his  profession,  the  special  gifts  of  the  Christian  ? 

Again  :  the  study  and  practice  of  the  law,  when  associ 
ated  with  sincere  Christian  principle,  afford  opportunities 
of  almost  unparalleled  usefulness. 

Second  only,  if  second  at  all,  is  the  vantage  ground  of 
the  advocate  to  that  of  the  minister  of  the  Gospel.  The 
intimate  relations  subsisting  between  pastor  and  people 
are  copies  of  those  subsisting  between  the  counsel  and  his 
client.  In  some  respects,  the  latter  are  more  closely  inti 
mate  and  blended.  A  pastor  experiences  no  little  difficul 
ty  in  getting  at  his  people  ;  there  seems  to  be  a  something 
(he  cannot  tell  what)  which  hinders  his  full  access  to  their 
hearts,  and  the  pious  minister  is  stripped  of  the  opportu 
nity  to  do  much  good  which  he  would  do  if  he  knew  how 
to  make  his  people  unbosom  themselves  to  him.  Very 
little  of  this  embarrassment  attends  the  conferences  be 
tween  the  lawyer  and  his  client.  The  merely  perfunctory 
in  his  legal  character  is  lost  sight  of  by  the  applicant  for 
legal  aid,  in  his  anxiety  to  secure  assistance  ;  and  all  em 
barrassment  is  taken  away.  The  man  shows  more  of  his 
heart  to  the  lawyer  than  he  would  dare  to  do  to  his  preach 
er.  He  unfolds  with  specific  minuteness,  and  in  detail, 
his  condition  in  life,  it  may  be,  or  some  sad  chapter  in  his 
experience,  needing  a  skilful  and  a  faithful  hand  to  bind 
up  the  wounds.  He  knows — that  is,  he  sometimes  knows 
that  to  protect  his  interests,  he  must  be  honest ;  and  he 
tells  the  whole,  as  well  the  questionable  and  doubtful  as 
that  above  suspicion  and  beyond  doubt.  How  ample  then 
the  opportunity  to  direct  to  the  right — by  a  suggestion  of 
the  proper  course  of  conduct  to  incline  to  it — by  a  word 


148          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

of  counsel  wisely  given  to  save  one  from  ruin  or  from 
shame.  These  are  not  merely  imaginary  cases.  The  his 
tory  of  every  sincere,  conscientious,  Christian  lawyer,  in 
full  practice,  would  disclose  not  a  few  such  examples.  We 
know  that  this  is  not  the  feature  of  the  legal  character 
usually  presented  to  the  public  ;  but  it  is  nevertheless  true, 
and  faithfully  drawn ;  and  in  nothing  have  even  wise  and 
good  men  more  erred,  than  in  the  harsh  judgments  they 
have  rashly  and  indiscriminately  pronounced  against  the 
bar.  Let  the  truth  be  told.  Professional  gentlemen  will 
be  the  last  to  deny  that  there  are  tricksters  and  fraudulent 
pettifoggers,  who  are  with  them  but  not  of  them,  who 
would  not  hesitate  to  do  a  dishonest  or  scurvy  thing,  and 
whose  opportunities  for  villainy  being  so  great,  have  ac 
complished  an  untold  amount  of  evil ;  and  by  how  much 
on  the  one  hand  these  are  enabled  to  do  more  harm  in  the 
superior  advantages  afforded  them,  by  so  much  on  the 
other  are  the  upright  enabled,  prompted  by  proper  mo 
tives,  to  promote  the  good.  In  the  single  example  of 
peace-making — the  quieting  of  family  disturbances,  where 
else  there  had  been  feuds  perhaps  bitter  and  unrelenting, 
what  has  not  been — what  may  not  be  accomplished  by 
Christian  lawyers  ?  Who  can  not  call  to  mind  one  such 
instance,  in  which  such  an  one  has  interposed,  and  poured 
oil  over  the  troubled  waters,  and  caused  a  great  calm  ? 

Again  :  the  lawyer's  peculiar  talents  fit  him  for  useful 
ness  in  the  Christian  Church.  For  the  main  advancement 
of  the  cause  of  Christianity  in  the  earth,  for  its  full  pro 
gression  and  final  success,  there  are  many  whose  influence 
is  comparatively  inefficient.  Their  introduction  into  the 
Church  is  a  blessing  to  themselves,  and  may,  in  some  in 
stances,  lead  to  the  blessing  of  others ;  but  their  lives  are 
passed  in  obscurity,  their  talents  are  not  commanding, 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.          149 

their  influence  is  contracted.  Not  so  with  the  Christian 
lawyer.  If  he  has  wisely  selected  his  profession ;  if  he 
has  not  been  thrust  into  it  by  injudicious  and  imprudent 
considerations  ;  if  he  is  adapted  by  natural  gifts  and  am 
ple  studies  for  its  successful  prosecution,  his  introduction 
into  the  Christian  Church  will  be  a  matter  not  merely  of 
personal  concern  and  importance  to  himself,  but  will  prove 
to  be  of  essential  advantage  to  the  body  of  which  he  be 
comes  a  member.  His  talents  will  fit  him  for  the  discharge 
of  many  of  the  offices,  not  strictly  clerical ;  and  by  his 
conversation  and  example  he  will  win  many  more  of  like 
capacity  with  himself  to  the  service  of  Christ.  A  body  of 
such  men,  animated  by  a  sincerely  humble  and  devoted 
spirit,  would  wage  no  light  warfare  with  the  hosts  of  sin ; 
and  even  when  segregated  and  separated  from  each  other, 
their  information,  their  talents  and  their  capacities  would 
greatly  promote  the  cause  of  Christianity.  We  have  some 
times  looked  with  no  little  admiration  at  a  bar  consisting 
of  many  of  the  wise,  the  eloquent,  the  talented  and  the 
energetic,  in  an  inland  city,  and  pictured  in  our  imagina 
tion  the  good  these  might  accomplish,  the  harvest  of  true 
fame  they  might  reap,  if  they  were  all  sincerely  pious. 
Alas  !  how  few  have  been  proud  to  call  themselves  Chris 
tians — how  many  of  the  few  have  been  self-deceived  ;  or 
have  perhaps  wittingly  and  willingly  worn  the  Christian 
profession  for  the  purpose  of  deceiving  others.  It  is  pro 
per,  also,  to  remark  that  the  ministry  looks  for  some  of  its 
recruits  from  the  bar.  We  are  not  of  those  who  imagine 
it  to  be  the  duty  of  every  Christian  lawyer  to  undertake 
the  office  of  preaching  the  Gospel.  True ;  the  gifts  and 
the  acquirements  which  fit  him  for  the  successful  prosecu 
tion  of  his  profession,  will  most  probably  adapt  him  to  the 
pulpit.  But  this  is  not  universally  true  ;  and  if  it  were 


150          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

so,  yet  other  traits  of  character  and  capacities  than  the 
gift  of  merely  speaking  from  the  pulpit  are  demanded  in 
the  Gospel  preacher  and  pastor ;  and  the  lawyer  may  be 
a  Christian  without  having  these.  Besides,  the  vocation 
of  the  law  demands  as  high  Christian  principle,  and  the 
exercise  of  the  purest  Christian  character ;  and  for  the 
sake  of  the  rest,  it  would  be  unwise  and  imprudent  to  with 
draw  from  the  bar  the  entire  Christian  element.  Some 
professing  Christianity  ought  to  remain,  that  the  influence 
of  their  example  upon  those  in  the  same  calling  may  be 
the  more  felt ;  as  well  as  for  the  sake  of  those  who  shall 
come  after — the  young  men  in  the  profession,  whose  exam 
ple  and  character  are  to  be  determined  largely  by  the  pre 
vailing  tone  of  character  among  their  elder  professional 
brethren.  Yet,  the  pulpit  looks  to  the  bar  for  recruits ; 
and  many  of  the  most  distinguished  and  useful  pulpit  or 
ators  have  risen  from  that  profession.  Why  may  there 
not  be  among  the  twenty  thousand  practitioners  of  the  law 
in  the  Union,  one-twentieth  of  them,  or  even  a  larger  pro 
portion,  who  shall  devote  their  time,  their  talents  and  their 
fortunes  exclusively  to  the  service  of  Christ,  in  the  proc 
lamation  of  the  Gospel  ? 

But  this  is  not  all,  nor  indeed  the  chief  service  which 
Christianity  demands  of  the  legal  profession.  She  wishes 
to  fill  up  her  ranks  of  laymen  with  intelligent,  thinking, 
laborious  men ;  she  wishes  counsellors  in  the  churches,  in 
the  prayer-meetings,  in  her  more  public  congregations. 
She  wishes  to  point  to  "honorable  counsellors,"  not  a  few; 
her  adherents  and  supporters,  in  the  courts  and  in  the  of 
fices  ;  men  of  uprightness  and  integrity  ;  men  of  moral 
WTeight  and  justness  of  views  ;  men  of  thought  and  men  of 
purpose.  She  wishes  that  examples  of  holy  living  may  be 
given  ;  and  that  the  ministers  of  justice,  strictly  so  called, 


CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION.          151 

may  become  themselves  the  lovers  of  just  dealing  and  just 
doing.  She  wishes  that  in  every  vocation  of  life,  in  every 
employment  and  pursuit,  her  votaries  may  be  found ;  and 
especially  desires  that  the  guardians  of  the  law,  the  de 
fenders  of  human  rights  and  the  avengers  of  human 
wrong,  shall  be  controlled  and  swayed  by  her  sweet  and 
chastening  influences — shall  illustrate  in  their  lives  and 
example,  and  teach  by  their  language,  that  there  is  a  law 
higher  than  human  authority,  of  sacred  and  universal  ob 
ligation,  and  that  they  honor  themselves  and  honor  hu 
manity  by  bowing  to  its  commands. 

It  will  appear  from  what  we  have  said,  that  we  desire 
that  barristers  should  do  something  more  than  make  a 
merely  external  profession  of  religion.  We  would  have 
the  Christian  barrister  and  counsellor  exemplify,  in  his 
life  and  by  his  words,  the  truth  and  the  power  of  Chris 
tianity.  His  inner  life  would  then  disclose  a  high  state  of 
spiritual  earnestness  and  sincerity.  While  engaged  in  the 
active  pursuit  of  his  profession,  in 'vindicating  by  his  elo 
quence  and  wisdom  the  right,  and  holding  up  to  just  cen 
sure  the  wrong,  he  would  find  it  not  impossible  to  cherish 
a  sacred  nearness  to  Jehovah,  and  to  preserve  that  inti 
mate  communion  with  Christ  which  are  the  distinguish 
ing  marks  of  the  active  Christian.  Such  a  lawyer  might 
write  upon  his  law-books  and  legal  opinions — upon  his 
legal  conduct  and  legal  life,  HOLINESS  UNTO  THE  LORD  ; 
and  in  every  act  and  word,  in  every  public  effort  at  the 
bar,  in  every  opinion  given  at  chambers,  in  dissuasion  from 
strife,  in  exhortation  to  justice  and  charity,  would  utter 
in  no  uncertain  language,  the  sentiments,  and  exhibit  the 
life  of  the  Christian.  Some  Christian  lawyer  once  said — 
"  that  he  never  undertook  a  cause  for  the  success  of  which 
he  could  not  pray,  and  he  had  never  lost  a  cause  for  which 


152          CHRISTIANITY  IN  THE  LEGAL  PROFESSION. 

he  had  prayed."  Could  the  principle  underlying  this  ac 
tion  be  carried  into  universal  practice,  there  would  be  no 
need  for  defences  of  the  bar  ;  the  life  of  the  Christian 
barrister  would  be  its  best  exposition  and  ablest  defence  ; 
and  the  slanders  so  often  recklessly  and  wantonly  uttered 
against  this  honorable  and  useful  calling  would  rebound  to 
the  damage  of  the  assailant, 


DR.  SMITH'S  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF 
SLAVERY.* 

It  has  been  a  matter  of  common  notoriety,  for  several 
years  past,  that  the  distinguished  author  of  this  work  had 
prepared  a  series  of  lectures  on  the  subject  of  American 
Slavery,  and  it  was  confidently  expected  that,  at  an  op 
portune  moment,  he  would  commit  them  to  the  press.  We 
do  not  regret  that  Dr.  Smith  has  chosen  the  present  as  the 
fit  season  for  publication.  The  public  mind  is  now  aroused, 
as  it  has  never  before  been,  to  the  importance  of  a  tho 
rough  discussion  of  the  subject;  and  we  welcome,  on  the 
part  of  the  South  and  her  people,  this  latest  able  defence 
of  her  "  peculiar  institution." 

A  question  of  grave  significance  meets  us  at  the  very 
threshold  of  the  discussion.  What  is  slavery  ?  Much  con 
fusion  of  thought,  arising  from  the  improper  and  indis 
criminate  use  of  this  term,  has  prevailed.  If  there  be  no 
certain  ascertainment  of  the  meaning,  we  are  beating  the 
air  instead  of  contesting  about  substantiate.  What  is  the 
essential  idea  of  slavery  ?  What  are  its  necessary  elements  ? 

*  Lectures  on  the  Philosophy  and  Practice  of  Slavery,  as  exhibited  in  the 
Institution  of  Domestic  Slavery  in  the  United  States;  with  the  Duties  of 
Masters  to  Slaves.  By  WILLIAM  A.  SMITH,  D.  D.,  President  of  Randolph 
Macon  College,  and  Professor  of  Moral  and  Intellectual  Philosophy. 
Edited  by  Thomas  O.  Summers,  D.  D.,  Nashville,  Tenn.  Stevenson  & 
Evans.  1856. 
11 


154  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

Does  it  mean  that  the  subject  of  the  institution  is  invested 
with  no  other  rights  than  a  brute  ?  Does  it  mean  that  the 
slave  is  the  master's  chattel,  in  the  largest  and  most  offen 
sive  signification  of  the  term  ?  May  the  master,  without 
violating  the  laws  of  humanity,  beat  and  bruise,  scourge 
and  maim  the  person  of  hi  >  slave,  or  convert  him  into  an 
instrument  of  wontonness  or  revenge  ?  Has  he  the  irre 
sponsible  power  of  life  and  death  ?  May  he,  at  mere  caprice, 
fetter  the  body  of  his  servant,  and  worse  still,  fetter  and 
bind  his  soul  ?  There  is  a  system  of  slavery  of  this  char 
acter  we  admit.  In  some  cases,  slavery  has  nearly  ful 
filled  to  the  letter  the  items  we  have  named  ;  but  t!  ese  are 
not  the  generic  ideas  of  the  institution.  They  may  not 
be  truthfully  affirmed  of  it  semper  et  ubique.  Thoy  ought 
not  to  be  applied  to  the  system  of  American  slavery,  to 
the  Domestic  slavery  prevailing  in  the  S  uthern  states  of 
this  union.  We  might  accept  as  aptly  describing  the 
slavery  found  in  these  states,  the  definition  of  our  author — 
"  the  abstract  principle  of  slavery  is  the  general  principle 
of  submission  or  subjection  to  control  by  the  will  of 
another." 

Upon  the  first  propounding  of  this  answer  to  the  ques 
tion,  we  are  free  to  admit  that  the  terms  of  the  reply  fall 
short  of  a  full  exposition  of  the  idea  of  slavery,  as  gener 
ally  entertained.  That  idea  has  almost  invariably  em 
braced  the  element  of  force  and  that  too  of  brute  force. 
In  this  form,  it  has  been  incorporated  into  our  speech;  in 
this  form,  it  has  tinged  our  conversational  and  written  dis 
course,  and  has  so  moulded  and  influenced  our  thought, 
that  tyranny  in  the  political  world,  and  slavery  in  the 
social,  have  become  convertible  terms,  denoting  the  utmost 
of  oppression  and  severity  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  utmost 
of  servility  and  abjectness  on  the  other.  This  is  the  idea  of 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  155 

slavery  that  has  origiaated  the  scoffs  of  "  holding  human 
beings  as  property"  and  "converting  them  into  brutes" 
which  have,  for  so  long  a  period,  formed  the  staple  of  argu 
ment  and  of  sentiment,  infecting  every  department  of  our 
literature.  The  idea  is  essentially  false.  The  freaks  of 
fancy  or  of  feeling  it  may  have  originated  and  produced 
are  fallacious  and  unnecessary.  When  we  assert  that  it 
is  right  to  hold  man  in  bondage,  we  do  not  mean  to  assert 
that  it  is  right  to  convert  him  into  a  brute  or  a  thing;  but 
simply  to  say  that  the  relation  of  master  an  1  slave  may 
exist  in  harmony  with  a  regard  to  moral  obligations ;  and 
that  in  such  case  the  master  has  the  right  to  demand  the 
services  of  the  slave,  and  it  is  the  duty  of  the  slave  to 
render  them  cheerfully,  heartily  and  obediently.  In  other 
words,  for  we  find  the  definition  of  the  author  we  have 
quoted  as  apposite  as  necessary,  the  abstract  principle  of 
slavery  is  the  general  principle  of  submission  or  subjection 
to  control  by  the  will  of  another. 

But  we  are  here  met  by  the  objection — "  All  then  are 
slaves.  Every  one  owes  subjection  or  submission,  in  some 
form,  to  the  will  of  another ;  the  wife  to  her  husband ;  the 
ward  to  his  gua  dian ;  the  apprentice  to  his  master ;  the 
child  to  his  parent;  and  the  husband  and  guardian,  master 
and  parent,  owe  subjection  and  subm  ssion  to  the  civil  au 
thorities.  Do  all,  then,  stand  on  the  same  footing?  Are 
we  all  slaves  ?"  The  question  is  put  ingeniously  and  is  de 
signed  to  cover  with  unjust  odium  the  man  who  asserts  it. 
If  we  answer  by  a  simple  affimative,  then  a  general  senti 
ment  denying  its  truth  will  be  appealed  to  in  condemna 
tion  of  the  answer.  If  by  a  simple  negative,  then  the 
definition  of  slavery  above  given  would  be  discarded :  for 
it  is  apparent  that  if  the  abstract  principle  of  slavery  be 
subjection  or  submission  to  the  will  of  another,  then  the 


156  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

wife  is  the  slave  of  her  husband ,  &c.  We  answer  affirma 
tively  that  the  essential  idea  of  subjection  or  submission  is 
involved  in  them  all ;  but  we  must  accompany  the  answer 
by  the  further  remark,  that  while  all  these  relations  cf 
husband  and  wife,  master  and  apprentice,  &c.,  involve  the 
subjection  of  one  to  the  will  of  the  other,  they  do  not  in 
volve  the  further  ideas  which  .domestic  slavery,  as  used 
with  us,  invariably  embraces — that  the  subject  of  the  in 
stitution  and  his  or  her  posterity  may  be  transferred  to 
another  master  who  shall  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  the 
slave  the  former  master  held  and  occupied.  And  if 
there  be  any  thing  of  degradation  or  immorality  in  the 
relation,  it  arises  from  this  right  of  transfer. 

Add  to  the  definition  of  the  author  we  have  cited, 
this  further  thought.  It  would  read  thus : 

"  The  principle  of  slavery  is  the  general  principle  of  sub 
jection  or  submission  to  control  by  the  will  of  another ;  but 
in  domestic  slavery,  as  distinguished  from  the  relations  of 
wife  and  husband,  ward  and  guardian,  apprentice  and  ma-- 
ter,  and  child  and  parent,  the  further  idea  is  involved  that 
the  master  has  the  right  to  sell  his  s  ave  and  his  posterity 
so  as  to  render  them  subject  to  control  by  the  will  of 
another  master ;  and  this  in  such  manner  and  to  such  ex 
tent  that  the  new  master  shall  stand  in  the  same  relation 
to  his  slave,  &c.,  in  omnibus  rebus  as  the  former  master 
stood." 

In  this  definition  we  have  perhaps  yielded  more  to  the 
opponents  of  slavery  than  we  ought  to  have  yielded.  It 
is  well  known  that  in  regard  to  all  the  relations  just  enume 
rated,  the  right  of  transfer  has  been  asserted  and  enforced. 
But  as  this  is  not  true  here  and  our  main  purpose  is  with 
American  domestic  slavery,  we  shall  content  ourself  with 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  157 

the  definition  given  and  will  let  those  who  decry  slavery 
make  the  most  of  it. 

No  on 3  will  dispute  the  moral  rectitude  of  the  relations 
of  guardian  and  ward,  master  and  apprentice,  parent  and 
child.  Not  even  the  fanatical  assertors  of  woman's  rights 
will  call  this  in  question  or  will  doubt  that  these  several 
relations  involve  subjection  on  the  one  hand  and  control 
on  the  other.  This  being  granted,  it  only  remains  to  jus 
tify  the  other  element  in  American  slavery  to  vindicate  the 
Tightness  of  the  institution.  That  other  element  is  the 
right  of  sale  of  the  slave  and  his  posterity.  Granting,  as 
we  have  done  for  the  sake  of  the  argument,  that  the  right 
of  sale  or  of  transfer  is  not  involved  in  the  other  relations 
spoken  of,  is  this  right  such  an  evil  as  to  tinge  with  turpi 
tude  and  moral  wrong  the  relation  of  master  and  slave 
while  the  other  relations  are  morally  right.  This  is  a  ques 
tion,  not  of  sentiment,  but  of  sober  fact.  It  is  a  question 
with  which  reason  ought  alone  to  deal.  For  its  proper 
solution,  we  must  bring  it  to  the  test  of  practical  expe 
rience.  The  discussion  of  the  question  involves  but  two 
elements ;  the  right  of  transfer  of  the  slave  himself,  and 
then  of  his  posterity.  Let  us  put  the  first  in  another  form. 
If  the  right  to  control  Catharine's  services  as  a  slave  is 
reposed  in  A.,  does  A.  wrong  Catharine  by  transferring 
that  right  to  B  ? 

If  B.  be  more  humane  and  generous  than  A  ;  more  cau 
tious  in  inflicting  punishment  and  more  faithful  in  requir 
ing  the  discharge  of  duty,  Catharine  is  advantaged  by  the 
transfer  and  has  no  cause  to  complain. 

And  if  B.  be  less  humane  and  generous  than  A.  it  would 
still  remain  with  Catharine  to  show  that  she  is  entitled,  of 
natural  right,  to  be  treated  with  the  humanity  and  gene 
rosity  of  A.  before  she  could  complain  of  the  transfer. 


158  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

Again :  even  though  she  prove  this,  it  would  yet  admit. 
of  grave  doubt  whether  the  right  of  transfer  does  not  lie 
behind  the  question  of  ill  or  good  treatment  on  the  part  of 
the  master,  and  whether  it  should  not  be  determined  with 
out  regard  to  it,  either  in  one  direction  or  the  other ;  for 
the  right  to  control  one's  services  involves  the  right  to  be 
stow  them  upon  others,  unless,  cotemporaneously  with  the 
origination  of  the  former  right,  or  subsequently  to  its 
origin,  the  latter  right  has  been  taken  away. 

This  has  been  in  substance  admitted  by  one  of  the  lead 
ers  of  the  anti-slavery  hosts.1  Then,  as  regards  the  pos 
terity  of  the  slave.  Can  there  be  any  doubt  that  if  the 
master  ex  virtute  magistri  may  claim  the  posterity  of  the 
slave,  the  person  to  whom  he  sells  may  do  the  same,  with 
out  wrong  ?  This  being  true,  has  the  master  any  right  to 
the  posterity  of  his  slave  ?  To  ask  the  question  is  to  an 
swer  it,  if  we  look  to  what  is  involved  in  the  plain  letter  of 
its  terms.  Concede  that  the  slave  is  rightly  the  master's 
and  you  concede  that  any  hindrance  or  incumbrance  to 
his  discharging  due  service  for  his  master  should  as  far  as 
practicable  be  accounted  for  to  the  master.  This  rule 
would  in  the  case  of  the  parent  slave,  secure  on  the  ground 
of  loss  of  service  a  title  to  her  child.  Add  to  this  the 
further  confirmation  of  this  title,  by  the  actual  expenditure 
of  means  for  its  support  by  the  master  and  by  its  other 
wise  strange  and  anomalous  position,  itself  free  while  its 
parent  is  a  slave,  and  you  have  an  argument,  as  it  seems 
to  us  impregnable,  for  the  continuance  of  the  relation  in 
the  case  of  the  child.  This  reasoning  itself  advantages 
the  child  of  the  slave ;  for  if  you  successfully  deny  the 
right  of  the  master  to  the  services  of  the  child,  you  cut  off 
all  occasion  of  kindness  and  care  on  the  part  of  the  mas 
ter  toward  it,  you  beget  disaffection  and  insubordination 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  159 

on  the  part  of  the  child  to  its  parent,  and  in  the  end  you 
must  thrust  it  in^o  the  struggle  of  life  with  no  means  of 
self  support  and  having  no  claims  for  help  upon  those  who 
could  afford  it  assistance.  The  legal  maxim  which  declares 
that  the  child  shall  inherit  the  condition  of  the  mother  is 
thus  found  to  be  the  dictate  of  common  sense  and  common 
reason  ;  and  strange,  passing  strange  would  be  the  philos 
ophy  which  should  teach  that  while  one,  of  right,  might 
control  the  services  of  the  parent,  and  might  lawfully 
transfer  that  right  to  another,  he  might  not  exercise  in  any 
case  the  same  right  in  regard  to  the  posterity.  The  entire 
question  thus  resolves  itself  into  the  question  first  mooted — 
has  a  master  a  right  to  the  services  of  his  slave?  Or  this 
other,  its  equivalent : — does  the  relation  of  master  and 
slave  necessarily  involve  moral  wrong  ? 

In  not  meeting  the  question  of  the  right  of  sale,  some 
may  regard  the  work  of  Dr.  Smith  as  defective.  We  hope 
he  will  discuss  this  question  in  a  future  edition.  We  have 
briefly  hinted  the  line  of  argument  we  should  pursue.  It 
might  be  amplified  and  extended. 

It  is  almost  a  work  of  supererogation,  since  the  masterly 
argument  of  Dr.  Fuller,  in  his  letters  to  Dr.  Wayland,  to 
drag  forth  to  light  again  the  favorite  objections  to  Ameri 
can  slavery  urged  by  the  author  of  the  Moral  Science  and 
his  coadjutors.  That  argument  is  so  conclusive,  that  but 
little  if  any  thing  can  be  added  to  its  strength  ;  yet,  as 
these  objections  are  reiterated  in  every  possible  form,  no 
work,  or  even  essay,  on  the  topic  would  be  complete 
without  replying  to  some  of  them. 

The  favorite  dogma  that  all  men  are  born  free  and  equal, 
in  addition  to  its  being  a  palpable  untruth,  is  neither  cred 
ited  nor  acted  upon  by  its  assertors.  We  cannot  refrain 
from  citing  an  example  to  illustrate  the  L^-ck  of  faith  in 


160          PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

this  dogma  as  a  rule  of  action.  A  few  years  ago,  the  en 
tire  country  was  agitated  by  the  disclosure  that,  in  a  North 
ern  city,  not  far  from  the  walls  of  a  classic  and  collegiate 
institution,  an  infant  of  scarce  three  years  of  age  was  kept 
under  painful  restraint  by  its  parent,  and  not  permitted 
for  two  or  three  days  to  taste  its  food.  The  child  had 
disobeyed  its  parent.  Its  will  must  be  subdued.  It  must 
become  subject  to  the  control  of  the  father,  or  else  its  ruin 
would  be  precipitated.  Hence  the  stern  mandate,  and  the 
sterner  execution.  The  child  was  debarred  from  eating  or 
drinking  until  it  confessed  its  fault.  At  length  it  relented ; 
the  error  was  confessed;  and  the  tender  but  faithful  parent 
clasped  the  child  to  his  embraces.  Rumor  states  that  father 
was  the  Rev.  Dr.  Wayland,  the  author  of  the  Moral  Science, 
and  the  defender  of  the  doctrine  that  all  men  are  born 
free  and  equal !  Did  he  credit  the  dogma  ?  If  the  child 
had  been  his  slave,  would  he  have  acted  differently  ?  The 
case  of  the  child  illustrates  the  inequality  between  the  pa 
rent  and  itself.  A  like  inequality,  or  one  similar  to  it,  Ls 
found  to  exist  in  other  relations  of  life,  and  is,  in  fact,  in 
separable  from  existence.  We  will  quote  the  language  of 
our  author  in  the  discussion  of  this  objection.  It  is  a  clear 
and  complete  vindication  of  the  position  that  we  have  as 
sumed,  while  it  discloses  the  American  source  of  this  doc 
trine  of  human  equality,  and  exposes  its  corrupting  in 
fluence  : 

"  Until  within  a  few  years  past,  the  dogma,  that  all  men 
are  born  free  and  equal,  was  stereotyped  in  all  the  text 
books  of  the  country — from  the  horn-book  to  the  most 
eminent  treatise  on  Moral  Science  for  colleges  and  univer 
sities.  From  the  days  of  Jeiferson  until  now,  it  has  been 
the  text  for  the  noisy  twaddle  of  the  '  stump  politician,' 
and  the  profound  discussions  of  the  grave  senator  in  the 
Congress  of  the  United  States.  If  this  dogma,  as  it  gen- 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  161 

erally  exists  in  thought,  be  true,  it  will  follow,  that  any 
and  every  abridgment  of  liberty  is  a  violation  of  original 
and  natural  right — that  is,  inalienable  right.  Hence  every 
system  of  slavery  must  be  based  upon  a  false  principle. 
The  popular  sense  in  which  this  language  is  generally  un 
derstood,  from  father  to  son,  is  evidently  the  literal  sense. 
But  taken  in  this  sense,  the  doctrine  is  utterly  false.  For 
men  are  born  in  a  state  of  infancy,  and  grow  up  to  the 
state  of  manhood ;  and  infants  are  entirely  incapable  of 
freedom,  and  do  not  enjoy  a  particle  of  it.  They  are  not, 
therefore,  born  equally  free,  but  in  a  state  of  entire  sub 
jection.  They  grow  up,  it  is  true — if  they  be  not  imbe 
ciles — to  a  degree  of  mental  liberty,  that  is,  the  liberty  of 
arbitrary  volition  in  the  plain  matters  of  right  and  wrong, 
and  hence  are  accountable ;  but  the  degree  of  this  lib 
erty,  or  how  far  they  are  thus  mentally  free,  depends  upon 
the  accident  of  birth,  education,  and  numerous  coincident 
circumstances,  which  destroy  all  equality  of  mental  free 
dom ;  and  as  to  equality  in  other  respects,  it  is  scarcely 
a  decent  regard  to  the  feelings  of  mankind  to  affirm 
their  equality.  They  are  not  physically  equal.  No  two 
men  will  compare  exactly  in  this  respect.  They  are  not 
politically  equal.  The  history  of  all  human  governments, 
throughout  all  time,  shows  this.  To  be  •  hewers  of  wood 
and  drawers  of  water,'  in  unequal  and  subordinate  posi 
tions  to  the  few,  has  been  the  lot  of  the  great  mass  of 
mankind  from  the  days  of  Adam.  But,  says  the  'social 
ist,'  [to  whom  the  doctrine  is  far  more  creditable;)  'this 
latter  is  precisely  the  state  of  things  we  deprecate,  and 
affirm  that  such  was  never  the  intention  of  the  Deity,  but 
that  it  is  his  will  that  there  should  be  no  such  inequality 
among  men  ;  that  his  will  is  in  itself  the  right ;  and  what 
it  is  his  will  we  should  be,  it  is  right  for  us  to  be,  and  it  is 
our  right  to  be;  and  that  system  wrhich  makes  our  condi 
tion  other  than  this,  deprives  us  of  our  rights.'  This  is 
the  philosophy  of  socialism. 

"  Now  it  is  true  that  much  of  the  inequality  of  condi 
tion  among  men  is  owing  to  an  abuse  of  the  superior  power 
which  intelligence  confers  upon  the  few ;  but  this  admis- 


162  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

sion  does  not  advance  the  cause  of  socialism.  For  if  it 
were  allowed  that  the  will  of  God  is  the  only  rule  of 
right — that  is,  in  itself  the  right,  instead  of  this,  that 
which  in  itself  is  the  right  is  the  will  of  God — it  will  not 
help  the  argument.  For,  on  this  hypothesis,  the  will  of 
God  is  the  only  rule  of  right,  as  on  the  other  it  conforms 
to  the  only  rule  of  right ;  so  that  on  either,  the  will  of 
God  may  be  taken  as  a  certain  rule  of  right.  What  then 
does  he  will?  In  regard  to  the  present  subject  of  inquiry, 
we  can  only  judge  what  he  wills  from  that  which  he  has 
done.  Now  we  have  seen  that  he  has  not  endowed  the 
souls  of  men  with  equal  capacity,  nor  has  he  even  placed 
them  in  circumstances  of  providential  equality,  favorable 
to  an  equal  development  of  the  unequal  capacities  he  has 
given  them.  Superior  intelligence  is  the  condition  of  ine 
quality.  Where  this  exists,  there  is  essential  inequality, 
and  practical  inequality  cannot  usually  be  avoided.  Hence 
superior  and  inferior  and  cognate  terms,  are  found  in  all 
languages,  and  the  conditions  they  represent  are  found 
amongst  all  people.  Hence  inequality  among  men  is  the 
will  of  God ;  and  if  his  will  is  the  rule  of  our  rights,  we 
have  no  abstract  right  of  equality.  It  is  rather  our  duty 
to  submit  to  that  inequality  of  condition  which  results  from 
the  superior  intelligence  or  moral  power  of  others.  Su 
perior  physical  power  may,  for  a  time,  give  us  the  ascen 
dancy  ;  but  things  will  find  their  level.  Superior  intelli 
gence  will  ultimately  bear  its  possessor  to  his  destined 
eminence.  A  state  of  oppression  is  not  one  of  inequality 
merely.  It  is  one  in  which  superior  intelligence  has  de 
graded  and  afflicted  those  in  rank  below  it,  in  an  inferior 
condition  ;  or  it  is  an  instance  in  which,  by  the  aid  of  brute 
force,  those  of  inferior  condition  have,  for  a.  time,  risen  at 
the  expense  of  those  of  superior  intelligence.  If  we  are 
oppressed,  in  either  of  these  ways,  we  have  a  right  to 
complain,  because  our  oppressors  violate  the  will  of 
God  concerning  us — violate  our  rights;  but  we  have  no 
right  to  complain  of  inequality  merely.  Inequality  is  the 
law  of  heaven.  He  who  complains  of  this  is  not  less  un 
wise  than  the  prisoner  who  frets  at  his  condition,  and  chafes 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  163 

himself  against  the  bars  and  bolts  of  the  prison  which  se 
curely  confines  him  ! 

"  But  if  the  dogma  in  question  cannot  be  made  to  serve 
the  cause  of  truth,  it  has  often  been  made  to  serve  the 
cause  of  policy.  Many  there  are  who  have  not  scrupled 
to  use  it  as  a  tocsin  to  call  together  a  clan,  not  their  infe 
riors  merely,,  but  so  degraded  in  their  inferiority,  that,  for 
the  price  of  being  honored  with  the  distinction  of  'free  and 
equal  fellow-citizens,  they  have  been  ready  as  menials  to 
bow  their  necks  to  their  masters,  debase  themselves,  dis 
honor  the  state,  and  insult  Jehovah!" 

Of  a  character  similar  to  the  dogma  just  considered,  are 
these  :  "  All  men  are  created  equal;"  "All  men  in  a  state 
of  nature  are  free  and  equal;"  or,  as  these  dogmas  have 
been  recently  expounded  by  Dr.  Wayland,  "  The  relation 
which  men  sustain  to  each  other  is  the  relation  of  equality  ; 
not  equality  of  condition,  but  equality  of  right."  All 
of  these  are  amenable  to  the  charge  of  confusion  of  thought, 
and  might  be  readily  dismissed  with  the  remark  that,  so 
far  as  the  mind  is  capable  of  grasping  the  ideas  sought  to 
be  expressed  by  them,  they  are  palpably  untrue;  while  in 
regard  to  that  which  lies  beyond  the  power  of  mental  con 
ception,  their  truth  or  untruth  would  be  equally  fruitless. 

But  let  us  attempt  an  exposition  of  the  fallacies  wrapped 
up  in  these  indefinite  and  almost  indefinable  objections  to 
slavery.  What  is  the  state  of  nature  spoken  of?  The 
time  has  been  when  political  philosophers  fancied  such  a 
state,  in  which  there  was  no  law  or  government ;  when 
there  were  neither  domestic  nor  civil  obligations  ;  when  man, 
primeval  and  disintegrated,  was  left  to  himself  to  work  out 
alone  the  problem  of  a  separate  existence  ;  but  these  fan 
cies  have  passed  away  and  it  is  now  not  questioned  by  any 
sober  mind  that  such  a  state  of  disintegration  and  isolated 
self-gc  vernment  never  in  fact  existed.  The  relation  of  the 


164  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

family  has  always  been  found,  since  that  happy  hour  when 
Eden  owned  a  master  and  mistress  : 

"  As  hand  in  hand  they  passed,  the  loveliest  pair 
That  ever  since  in  love's  embraces  met : 
Adam,  the  godliest  men  of  men  since  born, 
His  sons;  the  fairest  of  her  daughters,  Eve." 

The  marital  relation  was  not  the  fruit  of  sin,  nor  do  we 
suppose  the  subjection  of  the  wife  to  her  liege  lord  the  in 
fliction  of  a  curse  upon  the  woman.  In  a  state  of  nature, 
then — for  if  this  be  not  the  state  of  nature  sought  after, 
we  should  be  a  loss  to  find  it  elsewhere — there  was  found 
an  example  of  inequality.  In  the  case  of  child  arid  parent, 
too,  which  grew  out  of  the  family  relation,  there  was  in 
volved,  as  we  have  seen,  a  like  inequality.  Doubtless,  to 
avoid  the  force  of  these  truths,  the  dogma  of  equality  was 
expounded  to  mean,  not  "  equality  of  condition,  but  equal 
ity  of  right" 

Let  the  author  of  this  exposition  expound  his  own  defi 
nition.  "Each  separate  individual,"  he  remarks,  in  illus 
tration  of  his  statement,  "is  created  with  precisely  the 
same  right  to  use  the  advantages  with  which  God  has  en 
dowed  him  as  any  other  individual."  Who  doubts  the 
truth  of  this  truism  ?  If  this  is  what  is  meant  by  "  equality 
of  right,"  in  what  manner  does  slavery  militate  against  it? 
The  slave  has  the  right,  as  his  master,  to  worship  his  God, 
and  to  use  all  the  advantages  with  which  God  has  endowed 
him.  No  one  will  or  can  abridge  or  impair  this  right. 
But  what  are  the  advantages  with  which  God  has  endowed 
him  ?  In  a  state  of  slavery,  by  virtue  of  his  relation  to 
his  master,  the  slave  is  under  obligations  which  both  the 
law  of  God  and  right  reason,  always  in  harmony  with  that 
law,  sanction  and  enforce.  Has  the  slave  the  right  to  dis- 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  165 

card  the  relation,  or  to  refuse  to  perform  the  duties  growing 
therefrom,  any  more  than  the  child  has  the  right  to  reject 
parental  restraints,  or  the  wife  to  discard  the  law  of  her 
husband  ?  Does  not  the  very  right  which  God  has  given  the 
master,  u  to  use  the  advantages  with  which  God  has  en 
dowed  him"  require  that  he  should  control  his  slave  and 
demand  of  him  the  fulfilment  of  his  duties  ?  There  is  no 
necessary  "  equality  of  "condition" — that  is  admitted. 
If  there  be  not  involved  equality  of  condition,  the  one 
must  be  superior  and  the  other  inferior ;  and  that  superi 
ority  and  inferiority  running,  in  the  case  of  the  master 
and  slave,  in  the  same  line,  in  the  idea  of  superiority,  in 
such  case,  is  involved  the  right  of  the  superior  to  control ; 
and  in  the  idea  of  inferiority,  in  such  case,  is  involved,  as 
reciprocal  to  the  right  of  the  master  or  superior,  the  obli 
gation  of  the  inferior  to  obey.  Have  we  not  here,  then, 
all  the  conditions  of  slavery  fulfiled  and  expounded  in  the 
definition  of  the  author? 

But  again  :  In  affirming  that  by  the  equality  of  man 
with  man  is  meant  equality  of  right,  and  not  equality  of 
condition,  the  author  of  the  Moral  Science  aims  an  effect 
ual  blow  at  the  theory  of  his  coadjutors,  who  insist  that 
because  men  are  equally  free  they  have  equal  rights.  If 
he  meant  to  assert  that  all  men  are  "  equally  free ,"  or  of 
right  ought  to  be,  would  he  not  have  defined  the  equality 
he  insisted  on  as  an  equality  of  condition?  What  is  free 
dom  but  a  state  or  condition  ?  And  if,  as  the  author  of 
Moral  Science  asserts,  the  equality  to  which  he  refers  as 
that  to  which  all  men  are  entitled  is  not  an  equality  of 
condition,  how  can  he  deduce  from  his  premises  that  free 
dom  is  the  thing  to  which  all  men  are  entitled  ? 

This  reasoning  may  be  charged  with  being  mere  special 
pleading.  But  is  it  so  ?  Where  is  the  fallacy?  what  trip 


166  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

is  there  in  the  argument  ?  what  unfair  deduction  ?  If  there 
be  any  such,  we  lack  the  perspicacity  to  perceive  it.  The 
fact  is,  this  admission  of  the  writer  on  Moral  Science  ad 
mits  away  all  the  argument  against  the  institution  of 
slavery.  It  was  designed  to  avoid  the  unpleasant  infer 
ences  and  to  avert  the  force  of  the  arguments  which  would 
be  deduced  from  the  other  relations  of  life  above  spoken 
of;  and,  as  usual  in  the  case  of  ingenious  and  artful  de 
vices  to  turn  aside  the  power  of  truth,  the  author  has 
f  ,und  himself  in  a  worse  dilemma  than  that  from  which  he 
wished  to  escape. 

It  becomes  us  to  be  modest  in  treating  of  the  lucubra 
tions  of  the  author  of  Moral  Science  ;  but  if  we  were  com 
pelled  to  express  an  opinion  on  the  subject,  we  should  say, 
that  the  definition  of  the  writer  is  one  of  those  ingenious 
specimens  of  word-nionging,  in  which  the  language  used, 
while  it  appears  to  have  the  shadow  of  a  meaning,  serves, 
in  fact,  to  obscure,  and  not  to  enlighten.  We  have  no 
doubt  the  author  of  the  Moral  Science  fancied  he  had  a 
meaning  in  the  jargon  he  uses ;  but  it  was  only  a  fancy. 
If  it  had  a  meaning,  as  we  have  shown,  it  is  one  which 
opposes  rather  than  confirms  his  position.  We  are  inclined 
to  think  it  has  none. 

In  a  previous  article,  the  poison  was  extracted  from  the 
arrow  which  had  been  drawn  so  frequently  from  the  anti- 
slavery  quiver.  We  then  showed  that  the  law  which  en 
joined  us  to  "  do  unto  others  as  we  would  have  them  do  to 
us,"  required  the  American  slaveholder  to  continue  in  a 
state  of  slavery  his  African  slaves,  so  long  as  they  were 
incapable  or  incompetent  to  sustain  or  govern  themselves. 
We  shall  not  stop  here  to  add  to  the  arguments  then  ad 
duced,  though  they  might  be  easily  enlarged  upon  and  ex 
tended.  Dr.  Wayland  has  waived  the  necessity  of  such  a 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  167 

discussion  in  the  remark  that  "  whether  slaves  at  the  South 
are  competent  to  self-government  is  a  question  of  fact, 
which  it  is  not  the  province  of  moral  philosophy  to  de 
cide  !"  With  such  an  admission  of  the  want  of  jurisdiction 
over  the  only  practical  question  at  issue  between  the  North 
and  the  South,  it  is  surprising  that  the  Doctor  had  not, 
from  sheer  policy,  waived  the  discussion  of  slavery  alto 
gether.  It  is  the  more  surprising  that  he  should  have 
attempted  the  subject  among  the  class  of  "Practical 
Ethics!" 

We  now  approach  the  Gibraltar  of  abolitionism.  It  is 
objected  to  us,  that  we  do  not  teach  our  slaves  to  read  and 
write;  that  we  are  excluding  from  them  light  to  which  they 
are  fairly  entitled  ;  that  we  are  depriving  them  of  the 
right  to  read  the  Bible ;  that  we  are  interfering  with  their 
moral  and  social  elevation ;  and,  being  guilty  of  keeping 
them  in  a  state  of  barbarism,  that  we  plead  that  very  bar 
barism  in  vindication  of  our  policy.  The  answer  given  to 
this  objection  by  Dr.  Smith  is  so  full  and  conclusive,  that 
we  would  give  it  space  if  we  had  room.  We  shall  content 
ourselves  with  condensing  what  he  has  said,  adding,  in 
brief  form,  to  the  reply  of  the  Doctor,  what  has  occurred 
to  our  own  mind  in  relation  to  the  subject. 

We  will  admit  that,  in  very  frequent  examples,  in  indi 
vidual  instances,  intellectual  training  would  unquestionably 
exert  a  wholesome  influence  upon  the  moral  and  social 
condition  of  the  slave.  In  such  instances,  it  would 
possibly  promote  his  happiness  and  usefulness.  But  we 
deny  that  such  would  be  the  result  in  the  mass.  Be 
sides  the  utter  impossibility  of  effecting  universal  educa 
tion  among  the  negroes,  in  the  act  of  teaching  them  to 
read  and  write,  we  should  create  for  them  wants  which 
their  social  condition  would  not  enable  them  to  secure. 


168  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

Thus  an  impatient  and  restless  spirit  would  be  engendered, 
creating  disaffection  and  insubordination,  and,  as  the  re 
sult,  the  security  of  the  white  race  might  require  the  ex 
termination  of  the  black.  With  such  evils  in  full  view, 
we  should  be  untrue  to  ourselves,  and  should  violate  one  of 
the  plainest  dictates  of  humanity,  did  we  invite  by  our 
action  such  a  catastrophe.  Admitting  that  the  institution 
of  slavery,  as  found  among  us,  is  barely  a  necessitated 
evil — and  as  far  as  this  every  well-balanced  Northern  mind 
has  gone — this  reasoning  would  be  sufficient  to  answer  the 
objection  raised. 

But,  farther  :  we  do  not  cut  off  from  our  slaves  the  right 
of  religious  instruction.  We  are  not  interfering,  by  the 
statutes  which  prohibit  them  from  being  taught  to  read  and 
write,  with  the  proper  discharge  of  the  duties  they  owe  to 
man  or  to  their  Maker.  The  facts  will  testify  that  a  very 
large  portion  of  them  have  not  been  deprived  of  religious 
influences  ;  and  judging  by  results  alone,  it  might  well  be 
questioned  whether  the  white  race  enjoyed  superior  reli 
gious  advantages. 

Again  :  the  domestic  element  in  the  system  of  American 
slavery  is  probably  as  opportune  for  the  development  of 
all  the  powers  of  the  slaves — taken  in  the  mass — as  any 
other  scheme  of  instruction  or  enlightenment.  In  a  brief 
period  of  time,  they  have  undergone  such  rapid  changes 
in  civilization,  as  demonstrate,  beyond  question,  the 
happy  influences  which  have  been  at  work  in  their  im 
provement.  "Upon  this  element  of  slavery,"  says  the 
learned  author  of  the  work  before  us,  "  the  policy  of  the 
South  relies,  as  the  natural,  the  only  safe,  and  ultimately 
the  effectual  means  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  elevation 
of  the  African."  The  remarks  he  submits  in  this  connec 
tion  are  so  forcible  that  we  cannot  forbear  quoting  a  part 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  1G9 

of  them.     He  clearly  demonstrates  that  this  is  the  natural 
method  of  civilizing  the  African  race  among  us : 

"  It  is  the  natural  way ;  that  is,  the  way  adapted  to 
their  condition  as  an  inferior  and  naturally  distinct  race, 
who,  both  on  account  of  the  physical  facts  which  consti 
tute  them  a  distinct  race,  and  the  low  state  of  civiliza 
tion  (if  it  may  be  called  civilization  at  all)  which  they 
have  yet  been  able  to  attain,  should  not  be  admitted  to  a 
social  footing  by  intermarriage  with  the  superior  race. 

"  In  a  former  lecture,  it  was  demonstrated  that  an  un 
civilized  race,  dwelling  in  the  midst  of  a  civilized  commu 
nity,  had  no  right  to  social  equality,  and,  for  a  still  stronger 
reason,  no  right  to  political  sovereignty  in  such  a  commu 
nity.  It  was  also  shown  that  their  natural  rights  entitled 
them  to  protection,  and  reasonable  provision  for  their  im 
provement,  and,  as  in  the  case  of  minors,  to  such  ''authori 
tative  control1  as  is  best  calculated  to  preserve  their  power 
of  self-action — their  power  of  volition — from  that  enslave 
ment  to  the  baser  passions  of  depraved  nature,  which  is 
destructive  to  all  true  liberty,  and  the  most  degraded  and 
ruinous  form  of  slavery — subjection  to  the  Devil;  in  com 
parison  with  which,  a  physical  subjection  to  a  fellow  man, 
in  civilized  life,  with  a  power,  defined  by  law,  only  to  con 
trol  his  time  and  labor  to  a  reasonable  extent,  is  a  para 
dise.  These,  we  of  the  South  say — are  their  natural 
rights — the  good  to  which  they  are  entitled  in  virtue  of 
their  humanity.  Now  as  these  rights  are  in  their  nature 
relative,  they  imply  the  duty  on  the  part  of  the  civilized 
race  amongst  whom,  in  the  providence  of  God,  they  dwell, 
to  afford  them  both  the  protection  and  control  in  ques 
tion.  Their  DUTY,  in  these  respects,  is  clearly  reciprocal 
with  the  rights  of  the  Africans.  They  can  no  more  omit 
these  duties  to  the  blacks  with  impunity,  than  they  can  do 
so  to  the  minors  and  imbeciles  of  their  own  race.  Now 
what  form  of  control  will  more  naturally  or  appropriately 
fulfil  the  conditions  of  this  problem  ?  They  are  to  exercise 
the  sovereign  control :  all  political  freedom  is  denied  the 
blacks  by  their  condition.  They  have  no  right  to  it.  It 


170  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

is  not,  to  them,  the  essential  good.  Their  rights  lie,  as 
in  the  case  of  imbeciles  of  any  other  race,  in  being  gov 
erned,  not  in  governing  themselves,  in  those  matters  which 
constitute  the  objects  of  civil  government.  To  exercise 
this  sovereign  control  of  the  blacks,  and  at  the  same  time 
afford  them  the  protection  and  improvement  which  are  ap 
propriate  to  a  necessary  condition  of  slavery,  or  state  of 
subjection  to  such  sovereign  control,  is  the  solemn  duty 
of  the  superior  race.  The  position  here  advocated  is,  that 
the  domestic  element  of  the  present  system  in  operation 
amongst  us,  affords  a  more  perfect  guaranty  that  all  the 
conditions  of  this  problem  will  be  fulfilled,  than  could  be 
effected  by  any  other  system,  or  by  the  proposed  modifica 
tion  of  the  present  system.  The  element  in  question  con 
stitutes  for  them  an  invaluable  school  of  instruction — a 
school  in  which  both  the  mental  and  moral  nature  is  de 
veloped.  A  school  for  the  formal  instruction  of  the  blacks 
in  letters,  we  have  seen,  would  operate  only  to  defeat  the 
end  proposed  by  its  establishment.  To  govern  and  protect 
them,  and  at  the  same  time  make  them  useful  to  them 
selves  and  to  society,  by  a  system  of  military  police,  could 
find  but  few  if  any  advocates,  even  among  the  visionary. 
But  what  more  natural  than  to  accomplish  all  these  ob 
jects,  by  a  system  which  distributes  them  in  small  num 
bers  through  the  different  families  of  civilized  life  ?  Here 
they  are  brought  into  immediate  connection  with  much 
that  is  calculated  to  develop  the  mind,  cultivate  the  moral 
sense,  and  train  the  will  to  the  habit  of  obedience  to  its 
high  behests.  The  law  confers  upon  the  head  of  the 
family  the  same  right  to  direct  and  appropriate  the  time  and 
labor  of  the  blacks,  that  he  enjoys  in  the  case  of  his  chil 
dren — and  no  more.  The  period  of  time  to  which  this 
authority  extends,  differs  in  the  one  case  from  that  of  the 
other ;  but  this  is  the  only  difference  known  to  the  law. 
Great  abuses  of  this  authority  sometimes  occur  in  the  case 
of  the  blacks  ;  but  the  same  is  occasionally  true  of  paren 
tal  authority  in  all  parts  of  the  civilized  world.  The  for 
mer  may  furnish  a  fit  theme  for  the  perverted  genius  of 
Mrs.  Harriet  Stowe.  The  fruit  of  such  a  genius  may 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  171 

have  a  poetry — of  its  kind  ;  but  it  can  lay  claim  to  neither 
philosophy  nor  common  sense.  The  same  force  of  logic 
which  is  hurled  against  the  authority  of  the  master,  rakes 
the  authority  of  the  parent  in  the  line  of  its  fire,  with  an 
effect  no  less  destructive.  Both  are  equally  necessary  ; 
both  are  equally  protected  by  law ;  and  both  are  open  to 
great  abuses.  The  poetry  which  invests  these  abuses  with 
the  shovr  of  argument  against  the  authority  of  the  master 
may  cater  to  the  corrupt  taste  of  both  the  '  great  vulgar' 
and  the  '  little  vulgar  ;"  but  it  is  the  same  cormorant  ap 
petite  which  is  fed,  that  leads  tin  mere  '  readers  and  ci 
pherers'  of  the  land  to  turn  aside  from  those  valuable  pro 
ductions  so  appropriate  to  their  real  wants,  and  delight 
themselves  in  tragic  stories  of  murder,  arson,  and  rape, 
from  the  perusal  of  which  they  rise  with  passions  inflamed 
to  crusade  against  the  morals  of  society.  Christianity 
sternly  rebukes  the  abuses  complained,  of;  and  equally 
condemns  that  perversion  of  genius  which  employs  those 
abuses  to  currupt  the  public  taste  and  the  public  morals. 
As  far  as  Christianity  prevails,  the  civil  law  which  re 
quires  humanity  in  the  exercise  of  domestic  authority,  no 
less  in  the  case  of  the  child  or  the  apprentice,  is  sanction 
ed,  and  in  cases  demanding  it,  is  duly  enforced  by  public 
opinion  and  sentiment.  In  all  communities  in  which 
Christianity  is  the  presiding  influence,  African  slavery 
must,  therefore,  be  a  mild  form  of  domestic  servitude.  It 
even  contributes  in  a  measure  to  a  knowledge  of  letters. 
Many  servants  are  raised  by  their  associations  with  civi 
lized  life  to  a  desire  to  read  the  Word  of  God.  The  do 
mestic  relation  often  supplies  them  with  the  means  of  grat 
ifying  this  desire.  Many  pious  slaves  read  the  Word  of 
God  as  a  part  of  their  family  worship ;  and  instances  are 
not  wanting  of  those  of  whom  it  may  be  said,  they  c  are 
mighty  in  the  Scriptures.'  Such  are  the  tendencies  and 
capabilities  of  domestic  slavery  as  a  system  recognized  by 
law  ;  and  apart  from  those  abuses  which  all  good  men  de 
plore-— no  less  in  the  case  of  the  slave  than  in  the  case  of 
the  child  and  the  apprentice,  who  are  no  further  protected 
from  inhumanity  by  the  provisions  of  law  than  is  the 


172  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

slave.  Hence  this  system  is  the  natural  way  of  protecting, 
improving,  and  governing  the  African  for  the  mutual  ben 
efit  of  society.  It  is  evidently  indicated  by  Providence. 
No  other  can  be  appropriate  to  a  mass  of  population  who 
can  never  be  politically  free  in  our  midst,  for  the  reason 
that,  in  the  order  of  Divine  Providence,  they  never  can 
amalgamate  with  us." 
\ 

Our  author  has  said  enough,  wre  think,  to  justify  the 
action  of  the  slaveholding  States  of  the  confederacy,  in 
refraining  to  instruct,  for  the  present  at  least,  their  slaves 
in  letters.  P>ut  let  this  matter  be  determined  as  it  may, 
it  does  not  essentially  determine  with  it  the  character  of 
American  slavery:  it  does  not  settle  whether  American 
slavery  is  either  wrong  or  right.  If  it  be  consistent  with 
a  wise  regard  to  the  reciprocal  rights  and  obligations  of 
master  and  slave,  that  slaves  should  be  taught  to  read 
and  write,  if  such  training  will  not  interfere  with  the 
due  discharge  of  the  duties  growing  out  of  the  relation, 
no  Southern  master  would  hesitate  to  bestow  it  upon  his 
slaves.  Self-interest,  no  less  than  benevolence,  would 
prompt  to  the  gift.  But  if  it  be  true,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  these  rights  would  be  interfered  with,  and  that  the 
discharge  of  duties  on  the  part  of  servants  would  be  hin 
dered  by  it,  it  would  be  equally  the  right  and  the  duty  of 
the  master  to  refuse  the  gift.  At  any  rate,  with  or  with 
out  schooling,  we  are  not  amenable  to  the  charge  of  keep 
ing  our  slaves  in  a  state  of  barbarism.  We  have  seen  that 
they  daily  come  in  contact  with  civilizing  influences,  which 
are  working  their  wTay  not  the  less  powerfully  because  less 
noisy  and  pretentious  ;  and  we  may  add,  that  the  state  of 
the  African  slave  now,  as  compared  with  his  state  at  his 
entrance  into  this  favored  land,  denotes  a  higher  degree 
of  improvement  and  more  rapid  strides  towards  civilization 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  173 

than  many  of  those  who  weep  so  piteously  over  his  sad 
fate,  and  speak  in  terms  of  harshness  and  severity  of  his 
tyrannical  and  covetous,  and  cruel  masters. 

We  have  not  yet  fully  cleared  away  from  the  question 
the  rubbish  which  has  been  accumulating  upon  it  in  its 
discussion;  but  to  answer  in  detail  the  thousand  objec 
tions  which  a  distorted  ingenuity  has  contrived  to  urge 
against  American  slavery,  would  be  a  tedious  and  unprofi 
table  task.  We  have  taken  what  we  believe  to  be  the 
strongest  points  urged  by  the  opposers  of  slavery,  and 
having  answered  these,  are  content  that  the  rest  of  the 
defensive  part  of  the  warfare  should  be  judged  of  by  the 
sentence  which  shall  be  pronounced  on  those  already 
treated  of.  We  turn  now  to  another  aspect  of  the  ques 
tion. 

American  slavery  has  its  strongholds,  which  no  argu 
ments  yet  urged  have  overturned;  and  we  must  have 
greatly  underrated  the  prowess  of  the  assailants,  or  have 
overrated  the  strength  of  these  bulwarks,  if  any  can  be  pre 
sented  to  destroy  them.  Look,  for  example,  to  the  conser 
vative  elements  of  the  institution.  It  is  a  notorious  fact, 
the  verity  of  which  will  hardly  be  questioned  at  this  day, 
that  the  Southern  States  of  this  union,  in  which  domestic 
slavery  is  found,  are  almost  immeasurably  beyond  the 
North  in  point  of  sober  and  thoughtful  conservative  regard 
for  what  is  the  true  support  of  the  religious  and  social  in 
stitutions  of  our  people.  Without  arrogating  to  ourselves 
more  than  we  can  justly  claim,  we  may  declare  our  free 
dom  from  the  infections  of  that  moral  poison  which  has 
spread  its  deadly  influence  through  almost  every  vein  and 
fibre  of  Northern  society.  We  are  free,  thank  Heaven, 
from  the  putrid  corruptions  of  "new-lights,"  "free-love," 
socialism,  agrarianism,  arid  the  like.  If,  perchance,  a 


174  PHILOSOPHY'  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

stray  branch  of  these  Upas  trees  has  fallen  in  our  midst,  it 
has  met  with  an  ungenial  soil,  and  has  perished  and  died, 
leaving  no  trace  behind  to  mark  either  its  entrance  or 
exit.  To  what  are  we  to  attribute  these  facts  ?  Shall  we 
say.  that  it  is  because  we  have  not  yet  encountered  the 
tide  of  fury  and  rampant  fanaticism  which,  like  another 
Yandalic  descent,  has  poured  out  from  foreign  lands  upon 
the  northern  part  of  our  own  ?  We  owe  the  exemption  to 
the  fact  that  we  have  had  always  at  home  a  class  to  fulfil 
our  menial  offices,  and  this  has  kept  off  the  class  of  immi 
grants  which  infect  and  infest  our  neighbors.  "Will  it  be 
said  that  the  mind  of  the  South  is  not  as  active  as  the 
Northern  mind,  and,  therefore,  neither  restless  nor  impa 
tient  of  restraint ;  and  new  thought  does  not,  for  that  rea 
son,  give  so  early  an  impression  here  as  there?  If  by  new 
thought  and  an  active  mind  are  meant  a  greedy  gaping 
for  novelty,  a  rush  for  the  unknown  and  unknowable,  a 
disregard  of  the  old  because  it  is  old,  and  a  love  for  the 
new  because  it  is  new,  we  admit  the  fact,  and  pray  to  be 
delivered  from  the  day  when  mind  and  thought  shall  thus 
run  riot  in  our  midst.  But  if  by  activity  of  mind  and 
novelty  of  thought  are  meant  a  prudent  and  proper  exer 
cise  of  the  mental  powers,  and  a  readiness  to  adopt  what 
is  valuable,  whether  new  or  old,  then  we  claim  for  our 
social  system  sufficient  activity  for  these  purposes,  and 
challenge  proof  to  the  contrary.  We  will  cheerfully  ad 
mit  that,  in  the  aggregate  of  wealth  and  of  activity,  the 
North,  with  its  vast  and  teeming  multitudes,  surpasses  us  ; 
but  we  do  not  admit,  because  we  do  not  believe,  that  a 
comparison  of  her  average  wealth  with  our  own  would 
show  any  superiority  on  her  part.  On  the  contrary,  we 
can  demonstrate  the  reverse,  and,  at  some  future  period, 
will  endeavor  to  do  so.  But  admit,  however,  the  case  to 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PPvACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  175 

be  otherwise  ;  admit  that  the  average  wealth  of  the  North 
surpasses  ours ;  admit,  further,  what  her  writers  so  fre 
quently  affirm,  that  we  are  to  attribute  this  inferiority  to 
the  institution  of  slavery ;  we  shall  still  be  able  to  con 
tend  successfully,  that  while  slavery  has  entailed  on  us 
this  single  evil,  its  benefits  have  vastly  more  than  compen 
sated  for  the  loss.  A  record  of  the  crime  and  lunacies — 
not  to  say,  of  the  frauds  and  treacheries — inseparable  from 
free  society,  would  disclose  to  us  what  we  have  saved  and 
what  we  have  gained  by  this  simple  patriarchal  relation. 
If  it  had  effected  no  other  good  than  relieving  us  from 
the  immigration  of  paupers  and  convicts,  and  driving  from 
our  midst  the  fruitfully  pernicious  systems  of  infidelity 
and  socialism  that  prevail  at  the  North,  (and  would  prevail 
here  in  the  absence  of  slavery,)  we  are  more  than  compen 
sated. 

A  characteristic  feature  of  the  work  before  us  we  have 
thus  far  failed  to  notice.  It  is  an  important  one,  and  we 
are  gratified  that,  in  the  discussion  of  the  subject,  the 
writer  has  not  overlooked  it.  In  the  concluding  lec 
ture  of  the  series,  he  treats  of  the  relative  duties  of 
masters  and  slaves.  Vast  interests  are  at  stake,  de 
pending  on  the  proper  discharge  of  the  obligations  im 
posed  upon  the  master,  and  on  the  cheerful  and  hearty 
obedience  of  the  slave.  These  interests  it  is  the  duty  of 
the  master,  as  the  superior  and  more  intelligent  and  in 
structed  party  to  the  relation,  to  foster ;  and  our  author 
has  here  given,  in  brief  compass  and  in  clear  and  compact 
form,  a  manual  which  should  be  the  guide  and  glory  of 
every  Southern  slaveholder.  Dr.  Smith,  however,  fails  to 
say  (what  we  will  now  say  for  him)  that  the  rights  of  the 
slaves  and  his  true  interests  would  have  been  better  cared 
for  and  consulted,  that  masters  would  have  been  and  would 


176  PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY. 

now  be  more  equitable,  and  would  more  faithfully  and 
zealously  have  discharged  their  duties  toward  their  ser 
vants,  if  their  authority  had  not  been  interfered  with  by 
others. 

We  must  not  conclude  the  present  article  without  dwel 
ling  more  particularly  on  a  point  casually  noticed  in  the 
beginning  ;  that,  is  in  relation  to  the  false  sentiment  which 
has  so  long  prevailed  on  the  subject  of  slavery.  The 
argument  on  the  question  is  with  the  South.  Reason  and 
the  Bible  concur  in  support  of  the  position  that  slavery, 
in  some  of  its  forms — that  American  slavery  is  right.  But 
a  false  sentiment  is  against  us.  Our  literature,  domestic 
and  foreign,  has  been  corrupted  at  its  sources.  The  twad 
dle  about  the  wrongs  of  the  African,  and  undiscriminating 
censure  of  his  oppressors,  pollute  every  channel  of  thought, 
and  have  taken  shape  in  every  form  of  literary  develop 
ment.  The  books  we  put  in  the  hands  of  our  children  ;  the 
works  on  science  or  art  we  read ;  the  lighter  departments  of 
poetry  and  belles  lettres,  are  all  so  many  vehicles  of  false 
logic  and  false  sentiment  upon  the  topic  of  American 
slavery.  Cowper  mourns  over  the  wrongs  of  the  slave ; 
Shelley  pours  out  a  sad  lament  at  his  unhappy  fate ;  while 
a  host  of  lesser  lights  kindle  their  lamps  at  the  altar  of 
African  wrong. 

This  has  been  witnessed  long  enough.  The  God  of  the 
Bible  must  be  vindicated.  Right  reason  must  be  enthroned. 
Facts,  and  not  fancies,  truth,  and  not  falsehood,  must  be 
predominant.  How  shall  we  turn  the  tide  of  sentiment  ; 
how  convince  the  world  that  we  are  not  the  sad  tyrants  it 
wots  of?  Weak  and  wicked  would  be  the  policy  which 
should  suggest  the  abandonment  of  the  institution  and 
the  releasing  of  the  slave.  Justice  to  the  slave  de 
mands  his  continuance  in  servitude.  Our  own  safety  and 


PHILOSOPHY  AND  PRACTICE  OF  SLAVERY.  177 

the  peace  and  harmony  of  the  State  require  it.  One 
other  only  resource  is  left  us.  We  must  convert  the  world 
to  the  truth :  we  must  bring  their  minds  back  to  the 
teachings  of  the  pure  Word  of  God ;  we  must  demon 
strate  His  will,  and  thus  create  a  sentiment  in  accordance 
with  it.  This  result  is  not  unattainable.  The  rapid 
spread  of  wholesome  and  truthful  opinions  on  the  topic, 
within  the  last  ten  years,  demonstrates  its  feasibility ; 
and  though  we  may  not  hope  to  impress  the  leaders  of 
the  opposition  with  the  truth  of  our  convictions,  we  may 
divide  the  ranks  of  "  The  Many,"and  secure  among  them 
those  who  shall  be  valiant  defenders  of  the  truth ;  and 
share  with  us  the  glory  or  the  shame  of  protecting  Ame 
rican  slavery.  A  practical  field  of  usefulness  and  patri 
otism  is  here  spread  out  before  us.  In  every  department 
of  literature,  of  art,  and  of  science,  we  are  in  need  of 
laborers.  Our  logicians  must  prepare  for  the  conflict  of 
reason;  our  historians  must  record  the  facts ;  our  preach 
ers  must  preach  the  word  ;  our  teachers  must  instruct  in 
the  undeniable  truth,  so  as  to  bring  about  this  change  of 
sentiment.  And  in  due  time  the  problem  of  American 
slavery  will  be  solved- by  the  Divine  hand,  and  the  result 
will  show  that  the  same  God  who  blessed  Abraham,  the 
slaveholder,  and  Isaac  his  son;  the  God  of  Gerar,  the 
God  of  Sinai,  has  had  under  his  guardianship  the  inte 
rests  of  American  masters  and  American  slaves,  and  has 
wisely  overruled  for  good  the  agitations  of  noisy  distur 
bers  of  the  public  peace,  and  other  unhappy  efforts  of 
honest  (it  may  be)  but  misguided  philanthropists  and  re 
formers. 


MILBURN  S  LECTURES.* 

From  a  brief  sketch  of  Mr.  Milbura's  life,  prefixed  to 
his  work,  we  gather  the  following  facts.  He  spent  his 
early  childhood  in  Philadelphia.  When  but  a  boy,  he  en 
tirely  lost  the  use  of  ono  eye  and  was  partially  blind  in  the 
other.  Despite  this  serious  disadvantage,  he  has  been  a 
diligent  and  faithful  student  from  boyhood  to  the  present 
time.  At  14  years  of  age,  he  was  employed  as  a  clerk  in 
a  store  in  some  part  of  Illinois.  Here  he  occupied  his 
leisure  hours  in  storing  his  mind  with  thought  and  by  the 
aid  of  friends  who  read  to  him  and  his  own  exertions,  una 
bated  and  untiring,  he  was  prepared  to  enter  a  collegiate 
institution.  At  college  his  progress  was  rapid,  and  he  was 
in  a  fair  way  to  achieve  distinction,  when  in  consequence 
of  close  application,  his  health  failed  him,  and  "  active  life 
was  prescribed  as  the  only  thing  calculated  to  restore  him 
to  vigor."  He  began  his  public  career  as  a  Methodist 
minister,  and  labored  for  two  years  among  the  cabins  of 
the  West,  "  suffering  almost  incredible  hardships." 

"  In  the  fall  of  1845,  he  made  his  appearance  in  the 
Northern  and  Eastern  States,  as  an  advocate  for  the  cause 
of  education  in  the  West,  and  was  everywhere  received 
with  enthusiasm,  not  only  on  account  of  his  intellectual 

*  The  Rifle,  Axe  and  Saddle-Bags.  and  other  Lectures.  By  WILLIAM 
HENRY  MILBUBN.  With  an  introduction  by  Rev.  J.  McCLiNToCK,  D.D., 
New  York  :  Derby  &  Jackson.  Cincinnati  :  H.  W.  Derby  &  Co.,  1857. 


180  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

qualities,  but  also  tor  his  amiable  disposition,  and  eminent 
social  virtues.  On  his  journey  north,  Mr.  Milburn  found 
himself  on  board  of  an  Ohio  river  steamer,  on  which  were 
three  hundred  passengers.  From  the  number  of  days  the 
passengers  had  been  together,  Mr.  Milburn  had  become 
pretty  well  informed  of  their  character,  arid  he  found 
most  prominent  among  the  gentlemen,  were  a  number  of 
members  of  Cong*  ess,  on  their  way  to  Washington.  These 
gentlemen  had  attracted  Mr.  Milburn's  attention,  on  ac 
count  of  their  exceptionable  habits.  On  the  arrival  of  Sab 
bath  morning,  it  was  rumored  through  the  boat,  that  a  min 
ister  was  on  board,  and  Mr.  Milburn,  who  had  up  to  this 
time  attracted  no  attention,  was  hunted  up  and  called  upon 
to  '  give  a  discourse.'  He  promptly  consented,  and  in  due 
time  commenced  divine  service.  The  members  of  Con 
gress,  to  whom  we  have  alluded,  were  among  the  congre 
gation,  and  by  common  consent  had  possession  of  the 
chairs  nearest  to  the  preacher.  Mr.  Milburn  gave  an  ad 
dress  suitable  to  the  occasion,  full  of  eloquence  and  pathos, 
and  was  listened  to  throughout  with  the  most  intense  inter 
est.  At  the  conclusion  he  stopped  short,  and  turning  his 
face,  now  beaming  with  fervent  ze  »1,  towards  the  '  honor 
able  gentlemen,'  he  said ;  *  Among  the  passengers  in  this 
steamer,  are  a  number  of  members  of  Congress  :  from 
their  position  they  should  be  exemplars  of  good  morals 
and  dignified  conduct,  but  from  what  I  have  heard  of  them 
they  are  not  so.  The  Union  of  these  States,  if  depen 
dent  on  such  guardians,  would  be  unsafe,  and  all  the  high 
hopes  I  have  of  the  future  of  my  country  would  be  dashed 
to  the  ground.  These  gentlemen,  for  days  past,  have  made 
the  air  heavy  with  profane  conversation,  have  been  con 
stant  patrons  of  the  bar,  and  encouragers  of  intemperance  : 
nay  more,  the  night,  which  should  be  devoted  to  rest,  has 


MILBURN'S  LECTURES.  181 

been  dedicated  to  the  horrid  vices  of  gambling,  profanity 
and  drunkenness.  And,'  continued  Mr.  Milburn,  with  the 
solemnity  of  a  man  who  spoke  as  if  by  inspiration,  '  there 
is  but  one  chance  of  salvation  for  these  great  sinners  in 
high  places,  and  that  is,  to  humbly  repent  of  their  sins, 
call  on  the  Saviour  for  forgiveness,  and  reform  their  lives.' 

"  *  As  might  be  supposed,  language  so  bold  from  a  deli 
cate  stripling,  scarcely  twenty-two  years  of  age,  had  a 
startling  effect.  The  audience  separated,  and  the  preacher 
returned  to  his  state-room,  to  think  upon  what  he  had  said. 
Conscious,  after  due  reflection,  that  he  had  only  done  his 
duty,  he  determined  at  all  hazards  to  maintain  his  position, 
even  at  the  expense  of  being  rudely  assailed,  if  not  lynch 
ed.  While  thus  cogitating,  a  rap  was  heard  at  his  state 
room  door,  a  gentleman  entered  and  stated  that  he  came 
with  a  message  from  the  members  of  Congress — that  they 
had  listened  to  his  remarks,  and  in  consideration  of  his 
boldness  and  his  eloquence,  they  desired  him  to  accept  a 
purse  of  money  which  they  had  made  up  among  themselves, 
and  also,  their  best  wishes  for  his  success  and  happiness 
through  life. 

"  '  But  this  chivalrous  feeling,  so  characteristic  of  wes 
tern  men  when  they  meet  bold  thought  and  action  combin 
ed,  carried  these  gentlemen  to  more  positive  acts  of  kind 
ness  ;  becoming  acquainted  with  Mr.  Milburn,  when  they 
separated  from  him,  they  offered  the  unexpected  service 
of  making  him  Chaplain  to  Congress,  a  promise  which 
they  not  only  fulfilled,  but  through  the  long  years  that 
have  passed  away  since  that  event,  have  cherished  for  the 
*  blind  preacher' the  warmest  personal  regard  and  stand 
ever  ready  to  support  him  by  word  and  deed. 

"  '  His  election  to  the  office  of  Chaplain  to  Congress,  so 
honorably  conferred,  brought  him  before  the  nation,  and 


182  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

his  name  became  familiar  in  every  part  of  the  Union.  His 
health  still  being  delicate,  in  the  year  1847  he  went  south 
for  the  advantage  of  a  mild  climate,  and  took  charge  of  a 
church  in  Alabama.  For  six  years  he  labored  industri 
ously  in  Mobile  and  Montgomery,  cities  of  that  State,  and 
in  four  years  of  that  time,  preached  one  thousand  five  hun 
dred  times,  and  travelled  over  sixty  thousand  miles.' 

"  In  all  his  different  spheres  of  ministerial  labor,  Mr. 
Milburn  devoted  himself  to  his  work  with  the  zeal  and  fi 
delity  which  so  generally  characterize  the  clergy  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  But,  as  may  readily  be  un 
derstood,  his  blindness  was  a  great  impediment  to  the  due 
fulfilment  of  the  pastoral  function  under  the  itinerant  law 
of  the  Methodist  ministry.  The  necessity  of  removing  a 
growing  family  from  place  to  place  every  two  years  was, 
of  itself,  too  great  a  task ;  and,  although  Mr.  Milburn's 
great  power  of  endurance,  and  remarkable  physical  as  well 
as  mental  aptitude  for  public  speech,  would  make  it  easy 
for  him  to  discharge  the  pulpit  duties  of  a  fixed  and  per 
manent  change,  no  such  permanency  of  the  pastoral  rela 
tion  is  compatible  with  the  general  system  of  Methodism. 
In  the  summer  of  1853  he  returned  to  New  York,  and  fixed 
his  abode  there.  Since  that  period  he  has  devoted  himself, 
first,  to  his  great  life-work,  preaching  the  Gospel  in  such 
churches  in  the  city  as  needed  occasional  service  in  addition 
to,  or  in  place  of,  the  regular  pastorate  ;  and  secondly,  to  the 
delivery  of  public  lectures." 

He  is  now  on  a  visit  to  London,  where  we  are  informed, 
his  lectures  have  awakened  considerable  interest.*  A  few 
of  these  lectures  compose  the  present  volume.  Besides 
the  main  one  which  has  given  name  to  the  book,  "  Songs 
in  the  Night,"  "An  Hour's  Talk  about  Woman,"  and 

*  October  1857. 


MILBURN'S  LECTURES.  183 

•'French  Chivalry  in  the  Southwest,"  make  up  the  residue 
of  subjects  to  which  he  calls  attention.  These  titles  do 
not  aptly  represent  the  store  of  ripe  thought,  lively  illus 
tration  and  interesting  biography  with  which  the  work 
abounds.  The  first  lecture  furnishes  a  graphic  sketch  of 
Bishop  Bascom's  early  career.  In  "  Songs  in  the  Night," 
comprising  some  fifty  odd  pages,  the  writer  has  portrayed 
the  triumphs  of  genius  over  blindness.  Euler,  Saunder- 
son,  Francis  Huber,  Augustin  Thierry,  Prescott  and  Mil 
ton  are  the  chief  portraits  in  this  gallery  of  the  famous 
blind.  It  lends  almost  a  sacredness  to  these  portraitures, 
that  the  sketcher  is  himself  one  of  the  number  his  pen  has 
so  aptly  described.  Mrs.  Lloyd's  lines  close  the  lecture. 
We  can  not  omit  an  opportunity  to  reproduce  them.  They 
are  supposed  to  be  written  by  Milton  in  his  blindness  and 
old  age : — 

"  I  am  old  and  blind — 

Men  point  to  me  as  smitten  by  God's  frown — 
Afflicted  and  deserted  of  my  kind  ; 

Yet  am  I  not  cast  down. 

"  I  am  weak,  yet  strong ; 

I  murmur  riot  that  I  no  longer  see ; 
Poor,  old,  and  helpless,  I  the  more  belong, 

Father  Supreme,  to  thee. 

t;  Oh,  merciful  One  ! 

When  men  are  furthest,  then  thou  art  most  near; 
When  friends  pass  by,  my  weakness  shun, 

Thy  chariot  I  hear. 

"  Thy  glorious  face 

Is  leaning  towards  me,  and  its  holy  light 
Shines  in  upon  my  lonely  dwelling-place, 

And  there  is  no  more  night. 


184  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

"  On  my  bended  knee 

I  recognize  thy  purpose  clearly  shown  : 
My  vision  thou  hast  dimmed,  that.  I  may  see 

Thyself  alone. 

"  I  have  nought  to  fear — 

This  darkness  is  the  shadow  of  thy  wing, 
Beneath  it  I  am  almost  sacred  ;  here 

Can  come  no  evil  thing. 

"  Oh,  I  seem  to  stand 

Trembling,  where  foot  of  mortal  ne'er  hath  been, 
Wrapt  in  the  radiance  of  that  sinless  land 

Which  eye  hath  never  seen. 

"  Visions  come  and  go — 

Shapes  of  resplendent  beauty  round  me  throng  ; 
From  angel  lips  I  seem  to  hear  the  flow 

Of  soft  and  holy  song. 

"  It  is  nothing  now, 

When  Heaven  is  opening  on  my  sightless  eyes, 
When  airs  from  Paradise  refresh  my  brow, 

That  earth  in  darkness  lies. 

"  In  a  purer  clime 

My  being  fills  with  rapture;   waves  of  thought 
Roll  in  upon  my  spirit — strains  sublime, 

Break  over  me  unsought. 

"  Give  me  now  my  lyre, 

I  feel  the  stirrings  of  a  gift  divine, 
Within  my  bosom  glows  unearthly  fire, 

Lit  by  no  skill  of  mine." 

There  is  at  times  in  a  single  sentence  of  the  lectures,  a 
mine  of  thought.  Of  the  difficulties  attendant  on  the 
inarch  of  civilization  the  lecturer  writes :  "  Human  pro 
gress  is  a  slow  and  toilsome  journey.  The  caravan  of  hu 
manity  proceeds  by  short  and  painful  stages  !"  We  doubt 


MILBURN'S  LECTURES.  185 

whether  the  idea  here  presented  was  ever  more  aptly  ex 
pressed.  Every  word  in  these  sentences  is  the  representa 
tive  of  a  distinct  thought  and  "  the  caravan  of  humanity" 
embodies  a  world  of  meaning.  Of  character  :  "  Who  does 
not  feel  and  know,  that  the  divinest  agency  and  force  with 
which  we  are  made  acquainted,  is  character  ?  A  perfectly 
educated  will,  calms,  controls,  and  directs  others.  It  is 
higher  than  intellect,  or  any  form  of  genius.  It  blends 
the  strength  of  Feeling,  with  the  serenity  of  Reason.  It 
is  harmony  of  nature,  wherein  the  creature's  will  is  sub 
ject  to  the  Creator's,  after  tumultuous  striving  and  long- 
continued  endeavor.  It  is  the  one  only  thing  we  carry 
with  us  to  the  future.  As  it  is,  shall  we  be — blessed  or 
accursed." 

Speaking  of  Howard,  he  says :  "  his  office  was  the  in- 
stauration  of  modern  philanthropy." 

In  this  talent  of  concentrating  in  a  single  word  or  phrase 
a  sublime  or  beautiful  thought,  Milburn  reminds  us  of  the 
pictorial  power  of  the  unhappy  Hazlitt.  See  this  power 
displayed  in  another  phase  in  the  following  : 

"  1  am  assured  that  selfishness  is  the  ruling  law  of  life  : 
that  friendship  is  a  name,  and  love  a  deceit. 

"  So  have  I  not  found  the  world  or  man.  Will  you  ac 
cept  my  testimony  on  this  point  ?  It  has  fallen  to  my  lot 
to  travel  as  widely  in  this  country  as  perhaps  any  man  of 
my  age.  My  wayfarings  have  taken  me  to  the  boundless 
prairies  of  the  West,  to  the  cotton  plantations  of  the  South, 
the  farms  of  the  Middle  States,  and  the  manufacturing 
towns  of  New  England.  My  path  has  run  by  the  margin 
of  the  Atlantic,  on  the  shores  of  the  great  lakes,  by  the 
banks  of  the  Mississippi,  and  along  the  verge  of  the  Gulf. 
I  have  travelled  by  every  means  of  conveyance,  on  foot 
and  on  horseback,  in  canal  boats  and  in  stages,  on  rail  cars 
13 


186  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

and  steamboats.  Almost  all  my  journeys  have  been  pros 
ecuted  alone.  My  comparatively  helpless  condition  has 
often  thrown  me  upon  the  care  of  strangers.  I  have  been 
obliged  to  appeal  for  assistance  to  gentlemen  and  loafers ; 
to  the  negro  slave  or  his  master :  to  railroad  conductors 
and  to  hotel  landlords ;  to  waiters  and  hack-drivers  ;  to 
men  represented  as  the  coarsest  and  harsheot  of  their  kind. 
At  times  I  have  had  no  choice  but  to  address  men  when 
in  a  towering  passion,  when  their  mouths  were  filled  with 
oaths  and  blasphemy  ;  and  I  have  to  say  that  never  have 
I  spoken  to  a  fellow  man — but  once — saying  that  I  could 
not  see,  and  asking  him  to  do  the  thing  I  needed,  and  been 
turned  empty  away. 

"  At  this  spell  of  the  feeble,  the  hardest  fibres  of  man's 
nature  dissolve  to  the  tenderness  of  a  woman's  and  the 
gentleness  of  a  mother  takes  the  place  of  revolting  coarse 
ness  and  brutality.  Sach  is  the  result  of  my  acquaintance 
with  mankind  ;  a  result,  to  which  I  believe  it  will  be  found 
upon  examination,  nearly  all  other  persons  partially  or  to 
tally  deprived  of  sight  have  been  brought.  Paradoxical 
as  it  may  seem,  the  sightless  man  sees  the  best  side  of 
human  nature — the  blind  man  is  an  optimist.  With  all  its 
faults  and  vices,  with  all  its  sins  and  crimes,  there  is  ever 
10  be  found  lurking  in  our  nature  a  kindly  sensibility,  a 
genial  helpful  sympathy,  towards  those  who  are  suffering 
and  distressed ;  and  those  deprived  of  sight  appear  to  me 
to  share  a  larger  portion  of  this  holy  treasure  than  any 
other  class  of  the  afflicted.  Though  the  natural  sun  be 
blotted  from  their  vision,  human  affection  by  its  minister 
ing  care  well-nigh  replaces  it.  Though  the  universe  of 
visual  beauty  be  a  blank,  soft  voices  and  kind  hands  cre 
ate  another,  perhaps  a  lovelier  world  :  for  those  who  are 
thrown  by  calamity  into  the  arms  of  Providence,  Provi- 


MILBURN'S  LECTURES.  187 

dence  assures  protection,  and  appoints  angels  whose  change 
less  and  gladdening  office  is  to  smooth  their  way  and  stay 
their  steps,  and  yield  guardianship  and  succor.  The  heavy- 
laden  are  dear  to  God ;  and  man  has  not  so  utterly  lost 
God's  image  as  not  to  be  kind  to  those  whom  the  Father 
loveth." 

This  is  a  perfect  picture. 

Yet  another  example  in  which  the   author  discusses  the 
question  "  whether  a  blind  man  may  be  an  orator  ?"— 

"  Excel  as  the  blind  may  in  literature,  the   ma^ic  wand 
of  the  great  orator  cannot  be  given  to  them.     Shall  I  de 
monstrate  my  position  ?     When  you  are   engaged  in  con 
versation,  is  it  not  requis.te,  in  order  to   the   fullest  inter 
est  and  animation,  that  you  have  the  tribute  of  your  com 
panion's  eye  ?     Is  it  possible  for  you  to  sustain  a  prolonged 
and  exciting  conversation,  in  a  dark  room  ?  Can  you  make 
a  friend  or  intimate   of  any  person,  who  when  you  speak 
to  him  averts  his  glance  ?     No,  is  the  unmistakable  answer 
to  this  question.     Why  ?     You  come  to  your  deepest  ac 
quaintance  with  others'  sensibilities,  whereby  your  own  are 
kindled,  through  their  eyes  and  your  own.     The  sweetest 
and  mightiest  tie  which  binds  us  to  each  other — sympathy 
— whose  glow  kindles  our  enthusiasm,  whose  magic  power 
enables  us  to  transfer  our  life  into  another's  life,  to  per 
vade  our  own  imagination  with  another's  being,    reveals 
itself  not  through  the  poor  ministry  of  words,  but  in  the 
divine  expression  of  the   human   face,  which  concentrates 
and  glorifies  itself  in  the   electric  flashing  of  the   eyes. 
These  orbs  are  the  mirrors  of  the  soul ;  the  lights  which 
kindle  the  fires  of  friendship  and  affection. 

"  Again  ;  you  are  a  public  speaker.  Suppose  you  are 
called  upon  to  address  an  audience  from  behind  a  screen  ; 
or  with  your  face  turned  to  the  wall ;  or  with  a  bandage 


188  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

across  your  eyes, — would  your  words  have  power,  or  your 
nature  inspiration  ?  Picture  Demosthenes,  or  Clay,  ad 
dressing  an  audience,  they  hanging  breathless  on  his  lips, 
whe.i  suddenly  the  lights  go  out.  No  poise  of  character, 
no  self-possession,  no  absorption  of  the  speaker  in  his 
theme  is  equal  to  such  a  crisis.  No  spell  of  eloqm nee  is 
mighty  enough  to  hold  an  audience  together  under  such 
circumstances.  There  can  be  neither  speaking  nor  hear 
ing  in  the  dark. 

"  What  is  the  secret  of  the  richest,  greatest  eloquence  ? 
Neither  in  finish  of  style,  nor  in  force  of  logic,  nor  afflu 
ence  of  diction,  nor  grace  of  manner,  nor  pomp  of  imagi 
nation,  nor  in  all  of  these  combined,  is  it  to  be  found.  It 
may  be  accompanied  by  these — it  may  be  destitute  of  them. 
It  is  in  the  man — feeling  his  theme,  feeling  his  audience, 
and  making  them  feel  the  theme  and  himself.  He  pursues 
the  line  of  his  thought ;  a  sentence  is  dropped  which  falls 
like  a  kindling  spark  into  the  breast  of  some  one  present. 
The  light  of  that  spark  shoots  up  to  his  eyes,  and  sends 
an  answer  to  the  speaker.  The  telegraphic  signal  is  felt, 
and  the  speaker  is  instantly  tenfold  the  stronger ;  he  be 
lieves  what  he  is  saying  more  deeply  than  before,  when  a 
second  sentence  creates  a  response  in  another  part  of  the 
house.  As  he  proceeds,  the  listless  are  arrested,  the  leth 
argic  are  startled  into  attention,  tokens  of  sympathy  and 
emotion  flash  out  upon  him  from  every  portion  of  the  au 
dience.  That  audience  has  lent  to  him  its  strength.  It 
is  the  same  double  action  which  characterizes  every  move 
ment  of  the  universe ;  action  and  re-action  ;  the  speaker 
giving  the  best  that  is  in  him  to  his  hearers,  they  lending 
the  divinest  portion  of  themselves  to  him.  This  tidal 
movement  of  sympathy,  this  magnetic  action,  awakening 
and  answering  in  the  eyes  of  speaker  and  hearer,  by  which 


MILBURN'S  LECTURES.  189 

he  is  filled  with  their  life,  and  they  pervaded  by  his  thought, 
is  to  me  the  secret  and  the  condition  of  real  eloquence  ; 
and  clearly  this  condition  is  one  unattainable  by  a  man 
destitute  of  sight.  His  audience  may  yield  him  their 
deepest,  holiest  sympathies;  yet  how  can  he  be  made 
aware  of  this?  Between  himself  and  them  a  great  gulf 
is  fixed,  over  which  no  man  may  pass.  His  discourse  is  a 
soliloquy  spoken  to  his  own  ear,  his  imagination  the  only 
guage  which  he  possesses  of  the  appreciativeness  of  his 
audience.  His  words  may  be  beneath  them,  or  above 
them  ;  his  thoughts  may  be  lofty,  almost  divine  ;  his  con 
victions  may  reach  to  the  ve  y  roots  of  his  being ;  his  voice 
may  be  sweet  as  thrilling  music,  and  yet,  so  far  as  the  last 
and  highest  requisite  of  eloquence  is  concerned,  he  might 
as  well  be  speaking  to  the  trees.  His  audience  is  not  a 
reality,  but  only  the  product  of  his  imagination.  He  is 
wholly  incompetent  to  appreciate  or  receive  any  sympa 
thetic  response  which  they  maybe  disposed  to  render  him. 
Such  inspiration  as  he  may  have  is  the  influence  of  his  sub 
ject  upon  his  own  mind  and  heart.  The  answer  of  the 
human  eye,  the  mightiest  quickener  of  eloquence,  is  for 
ever  withholden  from  him.  Therefore,  I  have  said  that  this 
sphere  of  power  and  distinction  is  shut  up  against  him. 
The  blind  may  achieve  the  laurel  of  the  poet,  the  fame  of 
the  historian,  but  his  hand  can  never  wield  the  wand  of 
enchantment  which  is  given  to  the  great  orator." 

We  might  multiply  examples  of  this  description,  but  we 
have  given  enough  in  proof  of  the  freshness  and  vivacity 
of  Mr.  Milburn's  style,  and  his  peculiar  power  as  a  writer. 
He  is  not  faultless.  He  has  a  great  deal  of  power,  but 
much  of  it  is  misdirected.  He  is  forever  aspiring  after 
novelty,  and  in  managing  a  trite  topic,  prefers  to  utter  im- 


190  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

perfect  if  not  inaccurate  views,  rather  than  to  follow  the 
current  and  indulge  in  commonplace. 

In  the  "Hour's  Talk  about  Woman,"  Mr.  Milburn  sur 
prises  us  by  his  liveliness  of  narrative,  but  we  are  not  con 
vinced  by  his  reasonings,  nor  are  we  quite  satisfied  that 
he  understands  the  questions  he  undertakes  to  discuss.  Had 
he  conducted  us  into  an  imaginative  region — had  he  chosen 
to  charm  us  with  the  romance  of  fairy  land?  we  would 
have  thought  no  marvel  too  marvellous, — no  miracle  too 
wonderful  for  faith  in  woman's  power  and  woman's  love. 
In  such  event  he  might  have  selected  his  examples  from 
the  highest  forms  of  feminine  loveliness  and  purity,  and 
we  should  have  implicitly  accepted  his  illustrations.  But 
abandoning  these  more  inviting  themes,  the  lecturer  has 
addressed  himself  to  the  homely  question — uhow  a  woman 
who  is  obliged  to  wrork  for  bread  shall  get  it  ?"  The  sub 
ject  is  a  practical  one  and  commonplace  enough.  Our 
lecturer  felt  it  to  be  such,  and  in  his  effort  to  make  his 
lecture  interesting  and  entertaining,  he  has  wholly  failed 
to  answer  the  question  he  propounds  !  He  has  committed, 
too,  another  blunder.  He  treats  the  disease  he  would 
remedy  as  if  it  were  a  national  disease  affecting  alike  all 
sections  of  the  country.  A  very  little  observation  would 
have  taught  him  that  it  is  principally  confined  to  New  York 
and  a  few  other  Northern  cities. 

That  there  is  a  higher  sphere  for  woman  than  she  occu 
pies  in  these  populous  communities,  when  compelled  to  earn 
her  own  bread  by  the  needle  or  some  other  industrial  and 
poorly  compensated  pursuit,  is  unquestionable  ;  and  to  the 
shame  of  these  commercial  centres  be  it  written,  that  they 
have  not  lifted  a  finger  for  the  relief  of  the  victims  of 
their  civilization — that  they  have  utterly  failed  to  put  in 
digent  women  upon  the  footing  which  our  negroes  occupy 


MILBURN'S  LECTURES.  191 

and  enjoy  here.     There   is    no    necessity  for  the  agita 
tion  of  this   question   in   the    South.       \\7e  utterly  deny 
that  the  evil  has  its  existence  here  to  an  extent  justify 
ing  any  intermeddling  with  it  on  the   part  of  statesmen. 
Northerners,  however,  are  all  interested  in  the  question. 
Amongst  them,  the  remark  of  the  lecturer  is  eminently 
truthful : — "  Amid  the  rapid  mutations  and  sudden  chan 
ges  of  position  and  fortune,  no  man  can  tell  how  soon  his 
own  wife  and  daughters  may  be  degraded  into  the  garrets 
of  the  poor  or  numbered  among  the   outcasts  of  society." 
To  them  it  has   become  a   matter  of  much   moment  how 
destitute   females   are  to  gain  a   livelihood   at  once    re 
spectable  and  decent,  and  the  man  who  would  succeed  in 
devising    apt  means  for   the  work  ;  who  would   create  a 
change  tending  alike  to  the  good  order  of  the  community 
and  to  the  well  being  of  the  class  designed  to  be  the  ob 
jects  of  his  bounty,  must  bring  to  his  task  profound  study 
of  the  social  relations  of  his  people,  a  ripe  and  ample  ex 
perience,   a  thorough  knowledge   of  the    counterworking 
forms   of  society,    and  a  large  and    benevolent    wisdom 
With  all  of  these  qualities  he  may  fail — without  them  01 
any  of   them,  he   will   certainly  not   succeed.     There  h 
no  class  of  subjects  requiring  such   delicate  perception  or 
what  is  morally  right,  such  enlarged  views  of  the  varying 
motives  of  human  conduct,  and  such  intimate  acquaintance 
with  the  springs  of  human   action   as   these  social  topics 
which  it  his  become  the  fashion  in  these  latter  times  to  dis 
cuss  so  empirically  and  with   so  much  dogmatism.     And 
woe  be  to  the  reforming  hand  that  shall   attempt  to  touch 
even  what  appears   to  be  a  defect  in   social  machinery, 
without  weighing  accurately  and  justly  its  results  upon  the 
rest.     Mr.   Milburn,  we  have   said,   has   propounded  the 
question.     He  has  failed  to  answer  it.     He   attempts  an 


192  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

answer,  but  what  it  lacks  in  vagueness  of  specification 
is  not  supplied  by  particularity  or  pertinency  of  illus 
tration.  The  three  grand  departments  to  which  he 
directs  the  attention  of  woman  are  already  occupied  by 
her.  Not  we  admit  to  the  extent  that  they  ought  to  be  or 
must  be,  but  yet  occupied  in  some  measure  and  with  a  wil 
lingness  and  aptitude  opening  up  the  prospect  of  yet  fur 
ther  advances  and  attainments  in  these  several  directions. 
Literature,  Society  and  Home  are  unquestionably  woman's 
spheres — if  she  may  enjoy  them.  But  what  becomes  of 
the  thousands  who  are  without  the  culture  or  the  capacity 
to  improve  the  first,  and  who  cannot  attain  either  of  the 
last  ?  What  shall  become  of  the  vast  horde  of  workers 
who  earn  a  scanty  subsistence  by  daily  and  nightly  toil — 
an  i  who  eke  out  a  life  of  anxiety  and  care  by  the  con 
sumption  of  vital  vigor,  without  relaxation  or  rest  ?  To 
talk  to  these  of  literature — of  writing  for  a  livelihood — 
of  weaving  the  pictures  of  fancy,  is  as  idle  mockery, — a 
satire  and  scorn  upon  their  helpless  fate  and  nothing  more. 
These  forlorn  and  destitute  creatures  may  sing  from  the 
depths  of  lacerated  hearts  Hood's  Song  of  the  Shirt ;  they 
find  it  the  echo  of  their  own  experience — but  they  may 
not,  could  not  have  written  it.  Is  there  no  relief  for  this 
class  ? 

Have  the  people  whose  social  system  has  engendered 
and  produced  this  extremity  of  indigence,  nothing  to  fur 
nish  but  an  empty  exhortation  to  "toil  on"  and  an  idle 
wish  that  brighter  days  may  yet  dawn  upon  the  sufferers  ? 
Verily,  it  seems  to  be  so.  White  slavery  at  the  north  (we 
are  speaking  of  woman's  slavery  there)  knows  no  abate 
ment — no  diminution.  It  has  neither  prospect  for  bread 
nor  hope  of  long  life.  It  looks  forward  to  a  perpetual 
bondage  and  would,  (if  it  knew  its  true  interests)  willingly 


MILBURN'S  LECTURES.  193 

exchange  conditions  with  the  Southern  negro,  that  it  might 
thereby  gain  a  security  from  famine  and  an  exemption 
from  anxiety.  Mr.  Milburn  thinks  he  ha-*  met  the  ques 
tion  fully  by  answering  that  "  woman  ought  to  be  paid 
for  her  services  at  prices  equivalent  to  men."  This  seems 
to  be  right ;  and  we  have  no  doubt  that  toiling  women 
have  learned  the  lesson  before  and  have  sought  to  obtain 
such  an  equivalent  for  their  labors.  But  is  it  practicable  ? 
Constituted  as  Northern  society  is — is  it  possible  to  bring 
about  this  result  ?  Th^  plainest  principles  of  political 
economy  interfere  to  prevent  it.  The  laboring  man  is  by 
the  nature  of  things  compelled  to  ask  a  living  profit  for 
to  labor.  That  he  must  have.  Without  it  he  cannot  live 
or  labor.  But  it  is  not  so  with  the  women.  A  large  number 
engage  in  industrial  employments  who  do  not  rely  upon 
their  labor  for  support.  They  eke  it  out  by  the  surplus 
earnings  of  the  husband.  And  this  large  class  will  work 
for  any  price,  however  small,  rather  than  receive  nothing. 
In  competition  with  this  class,  must  come  those  who  are 
entirely  dependent  upon  their  own  exertions  for  support, 
and  the  natural  consequence  follows :  in  the  contest,  they 
are  compelled  to  work  at  a  rate  neither  remunerative  nor 
self-sustaining.  What  are  these  to  do  ?  Seek  other  chan 
nels  of  labor  they  cannot.  The  access  to  them  is  difficult 
and  if  they  were  reached  there  would  be  found  the  same 
state  of  things  to  exist  and  the  same  consequences  to  fol 
low.  Nor  will  it  much  better  the  matter  to  open  to  wo 
men  different  employments — to  give  them  access  to  profes 
sional  life  or  to  the  trades  or  other  business  occupations. 
Even  were  the  women  fitted  for  it,  the  same  state  of  things 
would  speedily  ensue  and  in  the  race  for  wealth  and  for 
bread,  the  destitute  would  find  themselves  outstripped  by 
those  who  might  rely  upon  other  hands  than  their  own. 


194  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

Again  :  it  might  be  asked,  what  good  consequences  would 
flow,  if  these  efforts  succeed  ?  Would  it  not  be  but  lifting 
the  burden  of  society  from  one  class  and  imposing  it  upon 
another  ?  We  attempt  no  solution  of  the  problem.  We 
believe  that  the  disease  lies  deep  down  in  the  heart  of  free 
society,  and  that  a  correct  statement  of  its  character  will 
one  day  disclose  its  true  source  and  discover  the  remedy. 
It  is  a  matter  of  almost  infinite  gratulation  to  our  South 
ern  people  that  such  a  state  of  things  is  unknown  among 
us — that  every  one  here  who  in  good  health  is  willing  to 
work  for  a  livelihood  may  acquire  it  by  an  amount  of  labor 
not  too  exhaustive.  Let  the  statesmen  of  free  society  de 
termine  if  they  can,  how  they  shall  satisfy  the  cravings  of 
a  hungry  populace,  or  quell  the  outbreaks  of  an  angry  and 
desperate  people  when  the  disease  under  which  they  now 
labor  shall  develop  itself  in  its  more  terrific  forms.  Tu 
this  issue  events  are  now  hastening,  and  the  wise  and  fore- 
thoughtiul  Northern  statesmen  should  set  themselves  to 
work  to  ascertain  the  remedy  and  avert,  if  they  may,  these 
popular  outbreaks. 

We  turn  now  to  follow  the  discussion  of  the  question  as 
Mr.  Milburn  has  propounded  and  answered  it.  He  is  evi 
dently  treating  the  theme  to  which  he  invites  attention,  as 
if  the  class  of  helpless  females  were  not  in  any  wise  inter 
ested  in  the  discussion.  He  has  pointed  out  channels  of 
labor  for  which  the  middle  and  higher  classes  of  females 
are  alone  fitted. 

In  the  departments  of  Literature,  Society  and  Home, 
woman  may  find  employment  suitable  for  the  unfolding  of 
character  and  the  development  of  her  capabilities.  In 
Literature,  the  position  she  already  occupies  is  an  earnest 
of  what  she  may  attain  to  hereafter.  From  the  rapid  pro 
gress  she  has  made  during  the  last  half  century,  we  may 


MILBURN'S  LECTURES.  195 

confidently  assert,  that  to  maintain  and  secure  their  boast 
ed  intellectual  superiority,  the  sterner  sex  will  need  to  put 
forth  all  their  powers.     For  a  special  department  of  lite 
rary  effort,  she  is  peculiarly  fitted.     We  echo  most  heartily 
the  opinion  expressed  by  our  author,  that  when  a  Library 
of  Choice  Reading  for  the  Home  shall  appear,  it  will  be 
found  to  be  the  product  of  woman's  pen   and  heart.      So 
ciety,  too,  has  its  claims.     Not  the  thing  of  shreds  and 
patches  that  calls  itself  such.     Not  the  original  of  Curtis's 
caricatures,  or  of  Thackeray's   excoriations.     Not  the  so 
ciety  that  boasts  itself  of  splendid  array  and  brilliant  equi 
page  ;  that  flounces  in  silks  and  flirts  in  brocades.     But 
the  society  of  the  truly  noble,  gentle  and   pure  ;  in  which 
thought  and  heart  are  the  masters,  and  form,  and  so-call 
ed  Fashion  shrink  into  their  native  diminutiveness  of  pro 
portion.     The  society  in  which  to  do  a  good  action  lends  a 
sweeter  flavor  to  the  life,  and  to  utter  a  pure  thought  gives 
a  charm   to   the   conversation.     The  society  of  men  and 
women,  rather  than  of  puppets  and  shams ;  of  the  gentle 
and  the  good,  riot  of  the  vain  and  vicious.      This  society 
has  its  claims  upon  woman,  and  they  are  not  slight.     The 
society,  which  this  is  not,  needs   the  reforming  touch  of 
woman's  genius,   before   it   can  lawfully  lay  claim  to  its 
boasted  title.     Did   woman  always   aspire  to  occupy  the 
position  for  which  nature  designed  her,  society,  ordinarily 
so  called,  would  be  quite  a  different  thing  from  what  it  is. 
Woman  would  then  be  as  little  seen,   and   perhaps  excite 
as  little,  or  even  less   attention  than  now  ;  but  she  would 
more  surely  secure  the  approbation  of  her  own  conscience, 
and  receive  more  of  true  homage — would  excite  more  re 
spect  and  win  less  admiration.     "  The  social  life  of  the 
country  is  the  reflected  image  of  woman's  character  and 
culture."     Men  may  rule  "  the  court,  the  camp,  the  grove  ;" 


196  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

they  may  dictate  the  statutes  for  the  regimen  of  the  State  ; 
their  mere  physical  power  may  nerve  its  arm,  and  as  coun 
sellors  they  may  give  voice  and  aim  to  the  wisdom  of  the 
nati-  n  ;  but  after  all,  the  social  problems  which  are  the 
subject  and  the  origin  of  laws,  the  manners  and  customs 
of  the  people  which  originate  and  produce  these  laws  are 
the  product,  directly  or  indirectly,  of  the  women.  It  is  no 
slight  duty,  then,  to  which  woman  is  called,  in  the  dis 
charge  of  her  offices  to  society.  She  finds  it  a  thing  of 
form,  she  should  give  it  substance.  She  finds  it  a  hypo 
critical  sham  and  a  pretence  ;  she  should  tear  aside  the 
veil  from  hypocrisy  and  make  it  real.  She  finds  it  cold, 
without  true  sympathy,  and  selfish  ;  she  should  make  it 
heave  with  the  emotions  of  earnestness,  beat  responsively 
to  the  calls  of  sorrow,  and  cause  it  to  prefer  another  to 
itself.  She  finds  it  boasting  of  wealth,  gloating  in  the 
splendor  of  its  retinue  and  the  pomp  of  its  luxurious  en 
tertainments  ;  she  should  make  it  rather  rejoice  in  truth 
fulness  and  virtue,  and  adorn  itself  with  quietness  and 
humility.  There  is  need  for  a  mighty  transformation 
here  ;  and  none  but  woman  can  work  it.  Satire  and  ridi 
cule,  man's  weapons,  will  not  avail.  Men  may  raise  up 
their  hand  against  it,  but  they  will  fail.  It  rests  with  the 
women  of  the  country,  whether  this  change  shall  be  wrought 
— whether  wre  shall  continue  to  be  the  subjects  of  shop 
keepers  and  milliners,  or  whether  we  shall  assert  our  right 
ful  dominion,  and  become  free  ;  it  rests  with  them  whether 
earnestness  in  social  life  shall  become  the  rule,  and  not 
the  exception  ;  it  rests  with  them  whether  we  shall  con 
tinue  to  bear  the  bondage  of  the  artificial  forms  of  social 
life,  or  shall  breathe  freely  in  the  open  air  of  unrestricted 
and  sincere  discourse ;  it  rests  with  them  whether  the 
houses  of  the  wealthy  shall  become  chiefly  the  theatre  of 


MTLBURN'S  LECTURES.  197 

splendid  entertainments  for  the  vain  and  giddy,  or  the 
abodes  of  ripe  learning  and  of  useful  and  laborious,  yet 
charming  content.  That  this  is  not  the  condition  of  the 
present,  is  evident. 

Our  author  has  pictured  this  society  as  it  appears  upon 
the  surface  ;  he  has  not  attempted  to  discover  its  "  inner 
life,"  or  to  unfold  all  the  corruptions  that  centre  there ; 
yet  the  picture  is  by  no  means  flattering,  or  to  be  greatly 
admired.  By  far  the  majority  of  the  members  of  these 
circles,  styling  themselves  society,  "  are  remarkable  for 
their  youth  and  inexperience."  "  Business  and  profes 
sional  men,  and  officials  (we  quote  the  lecturer's  language,) 
are  so  absorbed  by  their  pursuits,  or  oppressed  by  labor, 
that  they  have  little  or  no  time  for  the  recreation  of  friend 
ly  intercourse ;  and  even  when  they  attend  a  party,  or 
enter  the  smaller  group  of  the  drawing  room,  they  are 
either  so  jaded  or  so  engrossed,  that  they  scarce  take  any 
interest  in  the  scenes  and  conversation  transpiring  about 
them." 

"  Manhood,  (he  continues,)  therefore  finds  itself  repre 
sented  on  these  occasions  by  those  whose  youth  disquali 
fies  them,  or  whose  indolence  and  incapacity  unfit  them  for 
the  professions  or  the  mart.  Sophomorical  inflation,  and 
punctilious  regard  to  the  state  of  the  hair,  moustaches  and 
linen,  and  almost  equally  scrupulous  disregard  of  good 
breeding  and  manly  behavior,  the  affectation  of  little  wick 
ednesses  and  indulgence  in  great  ones,  with  a  fearful  state 
of  intellectual  vacuity,  may  be  accepted  as  the  character 
istics  of  these  youthful  gallants.  Gentlemen  of  eighteen 
polk  and  flirt  in  our  ball-rooms,  talk  all  manner  of  inde 
cency,  perform  all  sorts  of  rudeness,  and  before  the  close 
of  the  evening  are  very  probably  so  tipsy  that  they  must 
be  deposited  under  the  table  or  carried  horn:.  Gentlemen 


198  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

of  one-and-twcnty  discourse  to  you  gravely  in  the  inter 
vals  of  their  pleasure- hunting,  about  the  emptiness  of  life 
and  the  world  ;  declaring  that  in  their  private  opinion  there 
is  neither  honor  among  men,  nor  chastity  among  women. 
They  aver  to  you  with  a  solemnity  that  amounts  to  drolle 
ry  that  they  have  seen  the  whole  of  life,  and  that  they  are 
now  disgusted  and  biases.  And  yet  at  the  next  party — 
which  by  the  way  they  are  as  eager  to  attend  as  the  first 
one  to  which  they  were  invited — they  will  empty  a  saucer 
of  ice-cream  under  the  table  upon  the  host's  Wilton  car 
pet,  in  order  to  help  themselves  to  chicken  salad,  and  will 
gobble  indiscriminately  and  extensively  enough  to  impair 
the  digestion  of  an  ostrich.  Seeming  to  realize  that  their 
virtue  and  brains  reside  in  their  heels,  they  give  them  am 
ple  exercise  in  the  indecent  motions  of  the  '  fancy  dances.' 
Now,  however,  that  these  affectionate  forms  of  pastime  be 
tween  the  sexes  are  falling  into  disuse,  it  is  to  be  feared  that 
our  society  will  be  robbed  of  many  of  its  choicest  orna 
ments.  Ought  not  the  charitable  voice  of  the  public  to  be 
raised  in  protest  against  the  discountenance  of  these  lately 
fashionable  amusements  ?  for  what  will  become  of  the  de 
scendants  of  the  heroes  of  the  Revolution,  if  they  are  not 
allowed  to  display  their  only  accomplishment  ? 

"  The  conversation  of  society,  amid  the  excited  whirl  of 
the  ball,  or  in  the  quieter  groups  of  the  smaller  re-unions, 
consists  of  idle  gossip,  idle  tattle,  and  pernicious  scandal. 
And  these  goodly  staples  of  discourse  are  garnished  with 
profane  epithets  and  interjections,  cant  words  and  slang 
phrases,  mumbled  out  in  a  half  inarticulate  style,  and  at 
frequent  intervals  choked  by  the  speaker's  laughing  at  his 
own  smart  things  and  queer  conceits.  This  may  be  term 
ed  the  general  style  of  talk.  The  special  kind  is  devoted 
to  love-making  ;  not  a  whit  more  elegant  and  refined,  it  is 


MILBURN'S  LECTURES.  199 

more  dangerous  because  more  passionate.  Neither  wife, 
mother,  nor  maiden,  are  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  these  pre 
mature  debauchees.  With  an  affrontery  that  is  only  paral 
leled  by  their  iniquity,  they  seek  to  flatter,  cajole,  entice 
and  ruin  women  of  every  station  in  whose  presence  they 
are  tolerated.  How  far — " 

But  we  forbear  to  cite  farther.  If  this  be  the  society 
for  which  woman  is  being  trained,  it  needs  no  seer  to  tell 
us  she  will  be  better  off  in  a  state  of  perpetual  solitude 
and  entire  isolation.  There  is  another  sphere,  how 
ever,  in  which  she  will  often  find  the  purity,  the  truly  ele 
gant  attractions  and  the  solid  happiness  which  she  may 
have  sought  for,  but  has  never  secured  in  society.  'Ihe 
American,  most  of  all  the  Virginian,  ought  to  know  what 
it  is  to  have  a  home.  The  picture  our  author  draws  of 
New  York  domestic  life  we  accept  as  a  truthful  portraiture, 
but  it  is  not  a  model  of  Virginian  homes.  True  enough, 
we  are  aping  the  extravagance  and  the  insincerities  of  the 
chief  commercial  city  in  the  country;  and  here  and  there, 
throughout  the  Southern  portion  of  the  Union,  you  may 
discover  the  tattered  remnants  of  a  mode  of  life  derived 
from  that  abode  of  the  magnificent,  but  in  chief  part,  our 
Virginian  homes  to-day,  are  what  they  were  in  the  grand 
old  manorial  days,  when  hospitality  and  good  cheer — 
cheer  from  the  heart  and  not  from  the  lips — were  the  dis 
tinguishing  characters :ics  of  our  people;  when  the  father 
was  not  too  grave  or  immersed  in  care  to  take  part  in  the 
sports  of  his  children,  and  when  the  mother  looked  to  her 
progeny  with  affectionate  oversight  and  cared  more  to  have 
them  registered  among  the  truthful  and  sincerely  pure, 
than  to  bestow  on  them  an  abundance  of  rich  and  fertile 
possessions.  The  "  artificial  and  hollow  form  of  domestic 
life,"  "growing  out  of  the  senseless  and  sensualized  con- 


200  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

ceptions  of  the  people,"  is  we  hope,  even  yet  mainly  con 
fined  to  the  States  in  which  the  writer  delivered  these  lec 
tures.  If  it  has  invaded  us,  it  is  only  in  partial  and  ex 
ceptional  examples ;  yet  we  confess  the  tendency  of  things 
is  in  the  direction  to  which  the  author  points.  The  board 
ing-house  system  and  exaggerated  views  of  the  manner  in 
which  young  persons  are  to  enter  upon  marriage,  though 
mainly  felt  abroad,  are  even  here  beginning  to  acquire 
sway,  and  unless  speedily  checked,  unless  the  channels  of 
social  life  be  changed,  we  may  not  expect  for  any  length 
of  time  to  be  relieved  from  these  curses,  which  have  so 
fatally  sapped  Northern  society.  "  From  whom,"  perti 
nently  asks  the  author,  "from  whom  have  we  a  right  to 
ask  the  initiation  of  reform  ?  Who,  by  their  constitution, 
their  position  in  the  family,  the  delicate  pervasive  influ 
ence  with  which  they  are  endowed,  may  inaugurate  a  rev 
olution  and  carry  it  forward  to  a  successful  termination  ? 
The  child  is  father  of  the  man  ;  and  the  child's  character 
is  moulded  by  the  mother.  The  nurseries  of  to-day  con 
tain  the  society  and  the  state  of  the  next  generation  ;  and 
in  the  child's  world,  woman's  dignity  and  sway  are  regal." 

In  the  following  extract  our  author  happily  describes  a 
true  home-life,  arid  sets  forth  its  adaptation  for  the  de 
velopment  of  character : 

"  The  great  end  of  human  existence  and  its  divinest 
power  is  character,  and  no  sphere  is  so  propitious  to  its 
attainment  as  the  home-life  of  woman. 

"Is  it  needful  that  I  vindicate  this  proposition  ?  Her 
relation  to  her  servants  demands  patience,  prudence,  long- 
suffering,  self-control,  and  strength  of  will.  Her  house 
keeping  exacts  diligence,  watchfulness,  punctuality,  promp 
titude,  thrift,  management,  method.  With  her  children 
she  must  be  thoughtful,  gentle,  firm ;  ever  ruling  her  own 


MILBURN'S  LECTURES.  201 

spirit,  that  she  may  govern  them  ;  self-possessed,  yet  sym 
pathetic,  blending  dignity  with  grace,  and  tenderness  with 
authority.     Toward  her  husband  she  will  have  need  to  be 
generous,  magnanimous,  forgiving  ;  to  her  guests  urbane 
and  gracious ;  to  her  neighbors  obliging  and  helpful ;  to 
the  poor,  friendly  and  kind ;  toward  the  great,  decorous 
yet  self-respectful.     When  the  family  fortunes  meet  with 
reverses,  and  her  husband  is  dispirited  and  crushed,  from 
the  more  flexible  and  elastic  nature  should  come  the  spring 
and  vigor  by  which  losses  may  be  retrieved  and  success  re 
established.     In  prosperous  affluence  her  serene  spirit  may 
shed  the  tranquil  light  of  contentment  and  peace  through 
out  the  household.      In  the  time  of  uttermost  need  and 
darkness,  when  man's  hope  faileth,  and  his  best  discretion 
is  as   folly,   she  may  lend  wisdom  to  his  council?,  and 
strength  to  his  steps,  a  wisdom  and  strength  which  she  has 
obtained  from  One  who  "  giveth  liberally  and  upbraideth 
not."     No  one  so  needs  the  guidance,  comfort  and  succour 
derived  from  prayer  as  she.     To  no  one  is  the  mercy-seat 
more  accessible.     The  multiplicity  of  details  which  consti 
tute  her  daily  care,  it  would  seem  can  only  subject  her  to 
perplexity  and  vexation,  but  herein  is  a  school  for  mental 
improvement  and  development.      The  best  powers  of  fore 
sight,  skill,  combination  and  construction,  may  be  employ 
ed  in  restoring  the  tangled  web  to  order,  where  every 
thread  shall  find  its   appropriate  place  and  every  set  of 
colors  shall  be  assorted  in  a  fit  arrangement.     Her  perspi 
cacity  finds  scope  for  exercise  in  reading  the  characters  of 
her  children ; — and  the  action  of  intellect   is   never   so 
healthful  and  beautiful  as  when  impelled  by  beneficent  sen 
sibility.     The  little  generalship  of  the  family  summons  the 
best  powers  into  alert  and  strengthening  movement.     The 
feebleness  of  infancy,  the  waywardness  of  youth,  the  open- 
14 


202  MILBURN'S  LECTURES. 

ing  consciousness  of  her  larger  children,  alike  demand  of 
her,  vigilance,  solicitude,  self-poise  and  energy.  When  she 
is  weary  and  well-nigh  exhausted,  how  do  the  fires  of  her 
life  rekindle  as  she  beholds  the  merry  sports  and  gambols 
of  her  darlings  !  The  bloom  upon  their  rosy  cheeks,  and 
the  light  of  their  sunny  glances,  bring  back  the  lustre  to 
her  own  eyes,  and  the  unaccustomed  blood  to  her  wan  face. 
In  an  hour  like  this  she  tastes  of  happiness,  and  surely  no 
married  flirt,  no  gay,  worldly-minded  woman  ever  experi 
enced  in  quaffing  the  chalices  of  adulation  offered  to  her 
vanity,  such  pure  ethereal  joy,  as  that  which  fills  the  true 
mother's  heart  in  beholding  the  innocent  gladness  of  her 
offspring.  Their  delight  is  to  her  as  a  well  of  refreshment 
in  the  valley  of  her  pilgrimage.  Her  force  of  will  is  in 
voked  that  she  may  govern  them ;  and  her  sweetest  pity 
that  she  may  pardon ;  a  quick  and  tender  conscience  is 
required  for  the  delicacy  and  responsibility  of  her  trust. 
Faith  is  needed,  for  she  guides  the  footsteps  of  heirs  of 
immortality.  Her  work  should  ripen  in  her  confidence  in 
the  germs  of  goodness  which  she  plants  in  the  soil  of  her 
children's  nature,  in  the  care  with  which  she  tends  it,  in 
the  spiritual  ministry,  which  shall  guard  it,  and  in  the 
eternal  providence  which  ensures  the  fruit  of  her  labor. 
God  stations  the  mother  by  the  cradle  and  bids  her  yield 
her  hand  to  guide  the  uncertain  steps  of  childhood,  that 
man's  earliest  years  may  have  the  presidency  and  control 
of  one  apt  to  teach,  able  to  direct,  and  competent  to  bless 
him.  The  mother  is  called  to  a  life  of  self-sacrifice,  and 
is  not  this  the  true  notion  of  life,  embodying  the  highest 
conception  of  character  ?  The  greatest  the  world  has 
known,  whom  men  have  taken  for  their  teacher,  hath  said, 
'  He  that  would  be  great  among  you  let  him  be  the  ser 
vant  of  all."' 


Notes  and  Illustrations. 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  patron  genius  of  the  Mr.  Thomas  Rowlie,  lohose  curious 
and  recondite  manuscripts  had  lain  for  three  centuries  and  up 
wards  buried  in  a  chest  in  the  muniment  room  in  the  church 
p.  13. 

Chatterton  began  his  publications  concerning  Kowleyin  1769, 
The  "  Ryse  of  peyncteyne  in  England,  wroten  by  T.  Kowleie 
for  Mastre  Canynge"  purported  to  bear  date  in  1469.  Chatter- 
ton  in  his  note  to  this  account  calls  Canynge  the  founder  "  of 
that  noble  Gothic  pile,  St.  Mary  Redcleft  church,  the  Mjecaenas 
of  his  time,  one  who  could  happily  blend  the  poet,  the  painter, 
the  priest  and  the  Christian,  perfect  in  each ;  a  friend  to  all  dis 
tress,  an  honor  to  Bristol  and  a  glory  to  the  church."  The  true 
history  of  this  church  is  probably  given  in  the  account  append 
ed  to  the  drawing  of  the  church  made  by  William  Halfpenny 
and  published  in  May  1746,  by  Benjamin  Hickey,  Bristol.  «  This 
church  was  founded  by  Simon  de  Burton,  merchant,  in  ye  22nd 
year  of  ye  reign  of  King  Edward  ye  first.  In  the  year  1446, 
the  steeple  of  the  said  church  was  blown  down  in  a  great  storm 
of  thunder  and  lightning,  which  did  much  damage  to  the  same, 
but  was  by  Mr.  Wm.  Canynge,  a  worthy  merchant,  with  the 
assistance  of  diverse  other  wealthy  inhabitants,  at  a  great  ex 
pense,  new  covered,  glazed  and  repaired,"  &c.  The  church 
contains,  we  are  informed,  two  beautiful  monumental  statues 
of  Canynge,  in  one  of  which  he  is  habited  as  a  magistrate,  having 


206  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

been  Mayor  of  Bristol,  and  in  the  other,  he  is  represented  as  a 
priest,  having  in  his  latter  days  taken  holy  orders. 

But  happy  in  my  humble  sphere  had  moved, 
Untroubled,  unsuspected,  unbeloved.  p.  23. 

So  in  all  the  editions  we  have  seen.  A  lapsus  pennse,  per 
haps.  It  probably  read — "  untroubled,  unsuspected  and  be 
loved." 

Sir  Herbert  Croft,  p.  28. 

The  author  of  "  Love  and  Madness"  played  a  conspicuous 
but  not  very  enviable  part  in  giving  publicity  to  Chatterton's 
effusions.  Cottle  gives  us  quite  a  minute  account  of  the  affair 
in  his  "  Reminiscences  of  Coleridge  and  Southey." 

The  former  of  these  poems  has  already  called  forth  from  a 
kindred  poet,  verses  of  exquisite  tenderness  and  beauty,  p.  46. 

These  verses  are  cited  in  the  present  edition  of  Chatterton's 
poems.  They  are  the  production  of  James  Montgomery : — 

"  A  dying  swan  of  Pindus  sings 

In  wildly-mournful  strains ; 

As  Death's  cold  fingers  snap  the  strings 

His  suffering  lyre  complains. 

Soft  as  the  mist  of  evening  wends 
Along  the  shadowy  vale ; 
Sad  as  in  storms  the  moon  ascends, 
And  turns  the  darkness  pale  ; 

So  soft  the  melting  numbers  flow 
From  his  harmonious  lips  ; 
So  sad  his  woe-wan  features  show, 
Just  fading  in  eclipse. 

The  Bard  to  dark  despair  resign'd, 
With  his  expiring  art, 
Sings  'midst  the  tempest  of  his  mind 
The  shipwreck  of  his  heart. 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

If  Hope  still  seems  to  linger  nigh, 
And  hover  o'er  his  head, 
Her  pinions  are  too  weak  to  fly, 
Or  Hope  ere  now  had  fled. 

Rash  Minstrel !  who  can  hear  thy  songs, 
Nor  long  to  share  thy  fire? 
Who  read  thine  errors  and  thy  wrong?. 
Nor  execrate  the  lyre  ? 

The  lyre  that  sunk  thee  to  the  grave, 
When  bursting  into  bloom, 
That  lyre  the  power  to  genius  gave, 
To  blossom  in  the  tomb. 

Yes;  till  his  memory  fail  with  years, 
Shall  Time  thy  strains  recite ; 
And  while  thy  story  swells  his  tears, 
Thy  song  shall  charm  his  flight." 

Alas,  poor  Chatterton  !  p.  48. 

In  his  will  lie  bequeathes  a  friend  a  mourning  ring  with  this 
motto. 

The  law  books  tell  us  that  witnesses  are  to  be  sworn  according 
to  the  peculiar  ceremonies  of  their  own  religion,  and  in  such  man 
ner  as  they  may  deem  binding  on  their  own  consciences.  This 
was  a  part  of  the  civil  law  and  is  as  well  a  part  of  the  common 
law.  p.  78. 

1  G-reenleaf  on  Evidence,  §  371,  note  2.  Quumque  sit  adse- 
veratio  religiosa — satis  patet, — jusjurandum  attemperandum  esse 
cujusque  religioni.  Heinec.  ad  Pand,  Pars.  3,  §  13,  15.  Quod- 
cunque  nonien  dederis,  id  utique  constat,  oinne  jusjurandum 
proficisci  ex  fide  et  persuasione  jurantis;  et  inutile  esse,  nisi, 
quis  credat  Deum  quem  testem  advocat,  perjurii  sui  idoneum 
esse  vindicem.  Id  autem  credat,  qui  jurat  per  Deum  suum,  per 
sacra  sua,  et  ex  sua  ipsius  animi  religione,  etc.  Bankers'  Obs. 
Jur.  Horn.,  lib.  6,  cap.  2.  Indeed,  Mr.  Jefferson,  in  the  appen 
dix  to  his  Reports,  has  attempted  to  demonstrate  that  Christian- 


NOTES  AND  [ILLUSTRATIONS. 

ity  formed  no  part  of  the  common  law ;  that  the  common  law 
was  in  existence  in  England  before  the  introduction  of  Chris 
tianity.  If  he  has  been  successful,  it  is  clear  that  the  oaths 
required  under  that  law  were  not  necessarily  Christian  oaths : 
and  if  he  failed,  it  would  still  not  militate  against  the  opinions 
expressed  in  the  text. 

In  England,  even  before  the  laws  removing  the  disabilities   of 

the  Jews,  they  were  alloived  to  sit  on  juries  ;  they  were  sworn  as 

jurors ;  the  oath  they  took  was  administered  according  to  their 

own  form  of  religious  belief,  and  was  never  administered  as  a 

Christian  oath.     It  is  so  here.  p.  78. 

The  remark  of  Bishop  Hopkins,  that  the  "  idea  of  a  jury  of 
Turks,  Jews,  or  infidels,  would  be  regarded  in  law  as  a  pure  ab 
surdity,"  is  not  well  founded — certainly  so  far  as  the  Jews  are 
concerned.  Macaulay,  in  his  article  on  the  Civil  Disabilities  of 
the  Jews,  speaks  of  it  as  a  thing  conceded  that  the  Jew  might 
sit  on  a  jury;  and,  in  this  country,  no  one  has  ever  questioned 
the  competency  of  a  Jew  as  a  juror.  Authorities  concerning  an 
oath  "  in  a  Christian  country"  are  conflicting.  Some  have  gone 
to  the  extent  of  intimating  that  an  oath  upon  the  Gospels  is  the 
only  form  of  oath  recognized ;  others,  that  an  oath  should  be 
administered  according  to  the  form  of  religious  belief  enter 
tained  by  the  witness.  In  a  case  which  arose  in  1742,  before  the 
Lord  Chancellor  of  England,  assisted  by  two  Chief  Justices  and 
a  Chief  Baron,  the  Court  admitted  the  testimony  of  Gentoo  wit 
nesses,  who,  according  to  their  faith,  before  testifying,  touched 
the  foot  of  the  Brahmin  or  priest,  and  complied  with  other  cer 
emonies  of  their  religion.  The  reader  who  is  curious  to  trace 
the  legal  doctrine  of  oaths,  will  find  a  full  discussion  of  the  sub 
ject  in  the  report  of  the  case  just  alluded  to. —  Omychund  vs. 
Barker,  1  Atkyn's  Reports,  21. 

These  "servants"  were  slaves,  and  the  passage  should  so  have 
been  translated,  p.  85. 

It  is  needless  to  cite  numerous  authorities.     Consult  Dr.  Kit- 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  209 

to's  Pictorial  Bible,  in  loc.  and  his  "  Daily  Bible  Illustrations." 
Seventh  week,  Saturday,  title  slaves.  Fletcher  in  his  Studies  on 
Slavery  amply  demonstrates  the  true  meaning  of  the  Hebrew 
and  Greek  terms  rendered  ( servants'  to  be  slaves. 

It  will  be  enough  for  the  purposes  of  Southern  slavery  if  the 
statutes  ice  have  cited,  and  other  citations  made,  establish  that 
slavery  is  not  a  malum  in  se,  is  not  an  absolute  and  universal 
evil.  p.  91. 

Dr.  Barnes  has  shrewdly  shifted  the  issue.  In  the  larger 
part  of  his  earliest  work  entitled  "  Scriptural  Views  of  Slave 
ry" — a  most  sad  misnomer,  by  the  way ;  it  should  have  been 
christened  quite  differently — he  argues  as  if  it  were  incumbent 
on  the  South  to  establish  that  slavery  is  an  absolute  and  univer 
sal  good — a  bonum  in  se.  He  will  hardly  find  contestants  on 
this  proposition.  What  is  a  proper  burden  we  will  cheerfully 
bear.  We  are  prepared  to  prove,  and  we  think  our  writers  have 
proven,  that  the  Southern  Slavery  of  this  Union  is  not  an  evil. 
If  Dr.  Barnes  will  meet  this  question  fairly,  he  will  find  it  not 
so  easy  to  maintain  the  affirmative  side  of  the  issue.  We  shall 
not  object  to  scriptural  tests.  We  invite  them  in  the  enquiry. 

As  to  the  proposition  announced  in  the  text.  Surely  nothing 
can  be  more  clearly  demonstrable  than  that  if  the  Divine  Au 
thor  has  thus  sanctioned  slavery,  it  cannot  be  an  absolute  and 
universal  evil — a  moral  wrong,  per  se.  It  will  not  do  to  object 
to  this  argument  that  polygamy  has  also  received  the  Divine 
sanction,  and  that  that  is  such  an  evil.  Let  such  objectors  first 
prove  that  polygamy  is  such  an  evil — is  a  sin,  per  se,  and  we 
may  then  be  prepared  to  admit  the  force  of  the  objection.  Fi 
nite  beings  ought  to  hesitate,  before  charging  an  all-wise  and 
all-pure  God  with  sanctioning  or  even  tolerating  iniquity.  Any 
hypothesis  vindicating  his  wisdom  and  justice  is  preferable. 

This  duty  of  obedience  does  depend  on  the  justice  of  the  autho 
rity  which  the  master  claims,  p.  95. 

A  remark  of  Dr.  Fuller  in  his  Letters  to  Dr.  Wayland.     It 


210  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

need  scarcely  hare  been  made,  and  would  not  have  been,  had  not 
the  truth  it  affirms  been  doubted. 

The  right  to  control  one's  services  involves  the  right  to  bestoic 
them  upon  others,  unless,  contemporaneously  with  the  origination 
of  the  former  right,  or  subsequently  to  its  origin,  the  latter  right 
has  been  ta7cen  away.  This  has  been  in  substance  admitted 
by  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  anti-slavery  hosts,  p.  158. 

Dr.  Wayland,  in  his  treatise  on  Moral  Science,  asserts  this 
doctrine  in  broad  and  distinct  terms.  While  not  agreeing  with 
him  in  the  illustrative  case  he  presents,  we  do  agree  with  him 
in  the  position  he  takes  that  the  right  of  transfer  is  coextensive 
with  the  right  to  enjoy.  The  passage  alluded  to  reads  thus : 
"As  the  parent  has  supported  the  child  during  infancy,  he 
has,  probably,  by  the  law  of  nature,  a  right  to  his  services  du 
ring  youth,  or  for  so  long  a  period  as  may  be  sufficient  to  insure 
an  adequate  remuneration.  When,  however,  this  remuneration 
is  received,  the  right  of  the  parent  over  the  child  ceases  for 
ever.  The  right  he  may,  if  he  see  Jit,  transfer  to  another,  as  in 
the  case  of  apprenticeship.  But  he  can  transfer  the  right  for  no 
longer  time  than  he  holds  it.  He  can,  therefore,  negotiate  it 
away  for  no  period  beyond  that  of  the  child's  minority."  Way- 
land's  Moral  Science,  Pt.  ii.,  ch.  i.,  §  1.,  p.  205. 

The  author  is  right  so  far  as  the  essential  principle  he  asse  rts  is 
concerned ;  i.  e.,  that  the  right  of  transfer  is  coextensive  and  only 
coextensive  with  the  right  to  enjoy;  but  he  is  unfortunate  in  his 
illustration.  It  is  a  matter  of  grave  doubt  whether  the  right  to  ap 
prentice  the  child  is  in  any  measure  derived  from  the  right  to 
the  child's  services  which  the  parent  may  have  or  exercise. 
Certainly  the  parent  does  not  derive  his  right  to  the  child's  ser 
vices  as  a  remuneration  for  having  supported  him  during  infan 
cy.  If  this  were  so,  a  parent  who  is  at  charges  for  the  support 
and  education  of  his  child  during  the  entire  period  of  his  mi 
nority,  would  be  entitled  to  the  child's  services  for  a  sufficient 
length  of  time  after  he  attains  maturity  to  compensate  the  parent 


NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS.  211 

for  the  entire  charges  he  had  been  at.  This,  in  some  instances, 
would  be  equivalent  to  reducing  the  child  to  servitude  for  a 
lifetime.  This  concession  of  Dr.  W.  might  thus  be  converted 
into  an  argument  for  enslaving  the  child ;  but  we  think  the 
Doctor  in  error,  and  will  not  avail  ourself  of  the  concession. 
It  is,  we  think,  clear  that  the  duty  of  the  parent  to  control  the 
child,  and  his  obligation  to  provide  for  his  child  during  infancy, 
and  dispose  of  his  services  during  his  minority,  are  all  designed 
for  the  advantage  of  the  child,  and  not  for  the  advantage  of  the 
parent  or  as  remunerative  to  him.  In  promoting  the  child's  in 
terest,  the  parent  is  at  liberty  either  to  instruct  him  himself  or 
to  apprentice  him  to  another.  If  this  right  to  apprentice  were 
founded  upon  the  right  to  the  child's  services  as  a  remuneration 
to  the  parent,  in  some  instances  the  child  before  attaining  matu 
rity  would  have  paid  the  debt,  and  the  right  to  apprentice  would 
cease  ;  and  in  others,  as  already  stated,  the  child  would  be  sub 
jected  to  the  service  of  the  father  for  the  full  period  of  life,  and 
the  father,  in  such  case,  could  dispose  of  his  services  to  the  full 
end  of  the  term.  This  would  be  unpalatable  truth  to  Dr.  Way- 
land.  Does  not  the  truth  fall  here  ?  The  relation  of  parent  and 
child  is  a  relation  established  by  the  Divine  Being,  the  recipro 
cal  duties  of  both  parties  to  which  relation  are  set  forth  in  his 
written  Word.  They  are,  on  the  one  hand,  filial  obedience,  con 
fidence,  and  reverence ;  on  the  other,  paternal  affection,  over 
sight,  and  protection.  In  the  discharge  of  these  duties,  it  is 
incumbent  on  the  child  to  submit  himself  to  the  superior  wisdom 
and  experience  of  the  parent ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  in 
cumbent  on  the  parent  to  exercise  for  his  child  an  affectionate 
watchcare,  to  provide  for  his  nurture,  and  to  control  him  for  his 
advantage  and  best  good.  How  very  different  the  doctrines  of 
the  Bible  and  the  teachings  of  moral  science  !  The  one  resolves 
the  problem  of  the  parental  and  filial  relation  by  a  simple  reci 
tal  of  what  is  necessary  to  be  done  by  each  party  to  the  rela 
tion  in  order  to  secure  the  best  good  of  both  parent  and  child ; 
the  other,  not  content  with  this,  in  its  effort  to  search  out  the 


212  NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

reason  for  the  controlling  power  of  the  father,  attributes  it  to 
one  of  the  mere  accidents  of  the  relation  itself — the  charges  the 
parent  is  at  in  the  support  of  the  child — the  right  of  the  parent 
to  be  remunerated  for  these.  If  this  be  true,  the  obligation  of 
the  scriptural  injunction  to  the  child  to  honor  his  father,  and  the 
duty  of  the  parent  toward  his  offspring,  are  mere  matters  of  dol 
lars  and  cents ;  and  when  the  debt  of  the  child  is  cancelled,  the 
control  of  the  father  and  the  obedience  of  the  child  would  right 
fully  cease ! 


ERRATA. 

On  page  13,  line  27,  read  three  in  lieu  of  four. 
On  page  193,  line  13,  read  his  in  lieu  of  to. 
On  page  193,  line  14,  read  to  in  lieu  of  or. 


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